Bloody Severation - 102nd annual hunger games
by candykisses101
Summary: In a world where the Mockingjay rebellion failed miserably, the games live on. After 101 successful games, it is time for the 102nd hunger games. A games filled with blood, tears, secrets and broken promises, it is sure to be a memorable one. May the odds be ever in your favor! *SYOT CLOSED*
1. district 1 reaping

**A/N **

**I AM SO SORRY FOR MY LATENESS.**

**Seriously. But, the thing is I have a somewhat valid reason. I just started up an intensive summer course. Basically, we're shoving a semester's worth of work into just 4 weeks. So, yeah. Homework is very terrible. XD I am also a figure skater, so that also tends to take up a lot of my time. The course ends on June 27, so you can expect faster updates after that. **

**But don't worry, if ever it takes me this long to write another chapter, at least you know the reason now. And if you ever wanna know how far along I am in a chapter, don't be shy to PM me! **

**So, here is the District 1 reaping! Hope you all like it, and for those two who's tributes are seen here, (or anyone really) let me know if I've done anything wrong (review or PM are both okay with me! Whatever you prefer.) **

**Also, please read the authors note at the end, because I will be explaining some things. But before then, enjoy the reapings!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. **

Clos Gold POV

Heavy breathing. Sore muscles. The sound of metal clashing on metal. Everything I've ever known. The same thing morning after morning, day after day, week after week, year after year. All of it will come to an end today. Because, in just one hour, is the Reaping.

The Hunger Games is what I was made for. The reason I was born. My entire life revolves around it. I've been training for it since I was just eight years old. My own parents often tell me that the only reason they had me was to produce another victor, another piece to the family legacy.

And I'm okay with that. That's what its all about, isn't it? Bringing pride to my district, and to my family. I ponder all of this as I slash my sword into another training dummy. I don't even know why I came to the training center this morning. I know I'm ready. I was always the best trainer in my age group, and every challenge became too easy for me years ago. But my father woke me up at the crack of dawn as he always does. There is no such thing as "too much training" for my dad, Gold Gold. Yes, you read that right. Gold Gold. My grandfather was a strange man.

All of the dummies have been effectively destroyed – as usual. I take a quick glance around the training room, only to see that all the other stations are either extremely occupied or have been completely destroyed by various weapons. Of course everyone would try to get some last minute training done on the morning of the reaping, especially the oldest ones. Who knows how many of us plan to volunteer this year…but, in the end, it will be me. It was always me. I will be the fastest one to volunteer, and I will win. It's obvious. I must bring pride to the distict. Continue the family legacy. There is no other option.

Well, I guess I can go home now. I need to get some last minute quality time with Platinum, my girlfriend. We have been dating for almost two years now, and she is honestly the best thing that has ever happened to me. She is one of the few people in this district who is actually worth something to me, and is actually worth being with me.

After quickly patting my sweaty face dry with a towel, I gather my things and start for home, which is only about a five minute walk away from the training centre. I wave to a group of boys my age on the way out. _They better not be thinking of volunteering. They're gonna have a very rude awakening, _I think to myself, _it's my year. My honour. I must bring pride to my district, and to my family. _

As I walk to my house, I begin to daydream about the games. Who will the other tributes be? What will they be like? Surely, none of them will be as talented or amazing as me. Not even the other Careers. I will be the leader of that alliance for sure.

I am pulled out of a particularly enjoyable daydream of me slashing some twelve-year-old kid with my sword by the sight of my house coming into view, and mentally prepare myself for the inevitable questions that will be tossed my way upon entering it. "How was training, Clos?" my mother would ask. These are the only words she ever says to me. Then my father will surely make some negative remark, as usual. I sigh and push the door open, mentally bracing myself. I am immediately greeted by my mother, with her long blond hair and striking blue eyes. A lot of people think I look like her, but I tend to disagree.

"Hello Clos. How did your training go?"

Typical.

"It went fine, mom, just as it always does." I reply, somewhat sarcastic.

My father then steps in, as usual.

"Didn't stay there all too long, did you? You realize today is reaping day, right? How could you go into the games with only barely an hour of training? All those years, down the drain…"

I head up the stairs, tuning him out. I wonder if he knows that my training skills are better than his ever were. I watched his Hunger Games once. He literally almost got beat by the female from District 11. Not very flattering, if you ask me.

But I'll show him. I'll show them all. I will win those games and they'll regret ever having doubted me.

I quickly undress and step into the shower, turning the water up to the hottest temperature it can reach. I close my eyes as the warmth floods over me, washing away all my father's negative comments along with the dirt.

Maura Elaine James POV

I am awakened by the sound of a baby's cries. I sigh, burying my face deeper into my pillow. Normally, I don't mind taking care of little Rose in the slightest, although it is harder to be cheerful on just barely 3 hours of sleep. I couldn't help it. I was nervous. Today is Reaping day. I don't even know what that IS, but my family sounded unhappy whenever they spoke of it.

I moved to this strange country called Panem just two years ago. I wanted to spend the summer with my aunt and uncle, as well as my foster cousin, Amelie Beaumont, whom I had never met. I had learned a lot about this country's history, and it seemed like a promising, prosperous place. I wasn't necessarily disappointed upon arrival, although it wasn't really what I was expecting. The first time I saw Amelie, she called me a foreigner.

Oh, how I hate that word. I think it's so degrading and mean. The word had me seeing red, and before I could even process what I was doing my fist was swinging towards her face and I nearly sent her sprawling to the ground. I immediately regretted it, but she ran home before I could even utter an apology. I apologized to her later that day in her room.

She never called me a foreigner again.

Although, while I was apologizing, I noticed she had a baby in her arms. Rose. She was trying (and miserably failing) to put the baby to sleep. And so I did what I do best. I sang.

I made up the words completely on the spot, singing about the moon and the stars and little Rose. When the baby was finally asleep, Amelie looked at me with an admiring gaze, and that's when I apologized to her.

Eventually, summer came to an end. However, I found myself desperately wanting to stay. I had gotten close to Ami. She made me feel so special. The way I felt around her was different from the way I had felt around anyone before. And so, I stayed. It took some convincing, but I stayed.

Ami and I got closer and closer, until eventually our friendship turned into something more. I could tell my aunt and uncle were uncomfortable with it but I couldn't find it in me to care. Neither could Ami. We ignored the hate and the rumors and lived happily together.

And we still do. Crying babies and all.

Rose's cries finally stop, and I assume that Ami has gotten up to feed her, which leaves me feeling sort of guilty. I head down the stairs in my pajamas, finding Ami in the kitchen attempting to fill a baby bottle with milk while holding Rose under one arm at the same time.

"I'll take that!" I exclaim, snatching the bottle and milk carton out of Ami's hands and filling the rest of it for her.

"Good morning to you, too." She says with a grin, tossing her strawberry blond hair out of her face.

I grin back at her and kiss her lightly on the cheek, right on her freckles. Her freckles have always been one of my favorite things about her, physically.

"Ma-ruh!" Rose cries out with delight, mispronouncing my name the same way she always does.

"Good morning, baby!" I reply, my face breaking into a smile. I kiss her the same way I kissed Ami on the cheek, and she lets out a happy squeal.

"So, Reaping day is today, huh?" Ami says, her face suddenly growing more serious, green eyes piercing.

"I still don't know what that means." I reply, heading over to the fridge to put the milk away. "You guys have been talking about it for a week now. Care to explain fully?"

Ami remains silent for so long that I almost think she won't answer me. I close the fridge door, and lean against it, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Ami…" I warn.

She shifts nervously. "Well, you remember when I told you about the Hunger Games, right?"

"Oh, that terrible thing, of course I remember."

"Well, today is the day they pick who goes in."

We stare at each other for a long time, Rose looking curiously back and forth between us.

"It's okay." I finally say, "Neither one of us will get picked. Besides, it's the last time both of us are even eligible, right? We're eighteen! Plus, you said it yourself that people in your district actually train for this. We won't be picked."

I realize I sound a bit desperate, but it's the only way I can convince myself. I change the subject immediately.

"So, where are Uncle Brian and Aunt Kaitlyn?" I ask.

"Oh, they're out running errands. They left a note on the table. They should be back soon." She replies.

I nod my head and head over to the living room, where Rose's stash of toys and dolls are kept.

"So, who's down for a game of hospital with the stuffed animals as our patients?"

Clos Gold POV

I shake my wet hair dry and lift my gaze up to the mirror. Come to think of it, maybe I do kind of resemble my mother. Same eyes, same hair color. I grab the nearest comb and neatly fix my hair, giving it the "flippy" quality that Platinum loves so much. When I am convinced that my hair is satisfying enough, I head over to my room and open my dresser to reveal what is mostly training outfits, but a few fancier types of clothing as well, including all my previous reaping outfits since I was twelve years old. I flip through the clothes for several minutes, sizing up the different shirts and pants, and finally settle on a black t-shirt and a pair of dark-washed pants. No need to get fancy this year. They'll make me ten times fancier at the Capitol. I only notice the holes in my jeans after I've already put them on. Oh, well.

After pulling on my old tennis shoes I head downstairs, already dreading the thought of having to see my parents. My father walks over, combing his blond hair as he walks. I resist the urge to snort. Of course, he has to look good for when he's presented as a previous District 1 victor. My mother won't be presenting this year, as there's too many victors. They pick at random every year. He look me up and down, brown eyes lingering on the holes in my jeans slightly longer than everywhere else and frowns.

"Jesus, Clos, it's your last reaping. Can't you try to be a little more presentable? This morning, I get the feeling you don't even wanna be in these games at all. You don't care about the family legacy at all, do you…"

And there he goes again. Gosh, does he ever shut up? Probably not. My mother than walks into the room.

"What's all the arguing about?" she asks, directing the question only at my father.

"Look at those jeans! Does he look like a victor to you?"

"Clos, you really should put on something else…"

Of course.

"Can we just go, already? We're gonna be late." I say, pushing past them towards the front door.

I hear my father sigh, followed by a faint "Where did we go wrong?" I ignore it. I'll show him.

Maura Elaine James POV

After a fun game with Rose and Ami, we decide it's time to get ready for the reaping. I still don't fully understand all of this, but I'm feeling good about it. At least I know for sure we won't get picked.

I open up my closet, staring at all the clothes both from Panem and my home country. What to wear? I pull out a lavender, ankle length gypsy skirt that I brought from home and a plain white blouse from Panem. This should look nice enough. Ami did say people usually try to look presentable for these reapings. I top off the outfit with my black ankle length boots and walk over to the mirror to braid my jet-black hair into its usual waterfall style. I smile at myself in the mirror, pleased with my appearance, and make my way downstairs to greet my aunt and uncle whom I've just heard walking through the door.

"Hey, Maura! All ready for the reapings, eh?" my aunt greets me with a smile.

"You look lovely," my uncle chimes in.

"Thanks." I reply with a sheepish grin. "And, yup, all ready to go!"

Ami comes down the stairs with a little wave to her foster parents, Rose under one arm. She is wearing a blouse similar to mine with dressy black pants. She looks adorable. Rose is wearing a cute little pink dress.

"We all ready to go?" Ami asks.

We all nod and head out the door together. I feel Ami slip her hand into mine, and immediately feel better than before.

We reach the square in about ten minutes. It seems so strange to see almost the entire district all in one place. It makes you realize just how big our population actually is. That's when I notice the small booths positioned several feet in front of us, where teenagers are consistently stopping for several seconds before continuing. I wonder what that is.

Ami and I both hug Aunt Kaityln and Uncle Brian, who offer us words of encouragement and promises to celebrate later. We leave Rose with them and make our way towards the strange booths. When I feel we are close enough, I grab Ami's arm to stop her from continuing.

"Ami, what is that? Do we need to give them our names?" I ask.

Ami smiles. "In a sense. It's nothing you need to worry about."

I take her word for it and we continue towards the booths, keeping our hands intertwined and ignoring the stares.

Eventually, we have to separate temporarily. I make my way over to the booth nearest to me only to see the most weird-looking person I have ever come across in my life. She has purple hair curled to perfection and bright pink eyelashes which are unnaturally long. Her nails are also really long and painted a sparkly gold color, while her face is caked with what looks like some sort of white powder.

She looks irritated with the fact that I obviously don't know what to do.

"Your arm, please." She snaps.

I hesitantly hold out my arm to her, wondering what she will do with it. Before I can even imagine anything, she pulls something sharp out of her pocket and pricks my finger with it, making me hiss with pain and surprise.

"You may go. Happy Hunger Games!" she says in a sickly sweet voice.

I glare at her, but before I can say or do anything Ami is pulling me away, having anticipated my reaction.

"Gosh, Maur, you need to be on your best behavior with these people! They're from the Capitol!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get this over with, I wanna celebrate later."

Ami giggles adorably and pulls me on, leading me to a roped section marked with a big 18. I assume this is their way of dividing us by age. For some reason, this makes me angry. However, I don't have time to acknowledge it, because another freak-show is about to get on stage.

Clos Gold POV

After an extremely awkward walk with my parents, and the usual signing in routine, I am finally where I have been dreaming of being for ten years now. The 18-year-old section of the reaping. I make sure to stand closer to the front, putting myself at an advantage when the time for volunteering comes.

I resist the urge to laugh at loud when I notice the freaky lesbian couple walking towards our section. The blond one is laughing about something the chubby, olive-toned one said. Not only are they two girls going out, but one of them is a foreigner. I truly feel sorry for them. They end up standing right next to me, the tanned one on the side closer to me. I inch away uncomfortably. Foreigner.

Our escort begins making her way up the stage, but I look away, instead choosing to scan the 17-year-old section for Platinum. I find her almost instantly, and she gives me an encouraging smile and blows me a kiss. Oh, how I love her. I wish I'd had more time to go and see her this morning. I spot both her parents standing off to the side with the other peacekeepers, and my father on the stage with the old victors. I don't bother looking for my mother.

My thoughts are interrupted with the sound of the microphone being tapped, surely the escort's attempt at getting our attention.

"Welcome, everyone! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Ugh.

"Today, we're gonna reap the ladies first as always!"

Get on with it already.

The escort tries (and fails) to make the whole scene dramatic by swirling her fingers mysteriously over the reaping ball, fooling us into thinking she would finally grab a slip at least 4 times. I resist the urge to walk up there and ring her neck.

Finally, she pulls out a slip from somewhere deep inside the ball and walks back over to her microphone, high heeled shoes clicking loudly against the wooden stage. She unfolds it neatly on her little mic stand and shouts the name out loud and clear.

"Maura Elaine James!"

Where have I heard that before?

Maura Elaine James POV

The first thing I feel is complete and utter shock. How could I have been picked? There were at least a thousand other names in there! And I only had one, on top of that. Ami explained to me recently that certain people agreed to put their names in extra times in exchange for food and other goodies. We never needed to do that, though. I guess it didn't make a difference in the end, did it? I have just been picked for the Games, and everyone is staring at me expectantly.

But, wait! What about the volunteers Ami told me about? Why isn't anyone stepping up to take my place? That's when I hear the whispers, each and every one of them containing that dreaded word.

Foreigner.

Of course. Why would anyone volunteer for me, the foreigner with a girlfriend from the district who can technically be considered my step-sister? Of course no one would.

This doesn't just make me angry. It makes me absolutely furious. I don't even know what these Games ARE, and I'm stuck participating in it just because I'm not from around here.

And then I look over at Ami and that's when my heart truly breaks.

She's looking at me with her eyes filled with tears. Her eyes bore into mine, desperation and fear written all over her face.

As much as I wish I could just take her hand and run away with her, I know that this isn't possible. So, I give her hand one final squeeze and make my way over to the stage with my head held high. I will not show weakness. I cannot afford it. I tune out all of the whispers from the older kids and the sad, pity-filled stares from the younger kids and focus my gaze solely on the wooden stage in front of me and the freaky Capitol woman standing in the middle of it.

After what feels like hours, I'm finally on the stage looking out into the crowd. I can see Ami, trying so hard to hold it together and it takes every bit of strength and concentration in me to not burst into tears right there on the stage. I look around for my aunt and uncle and Rose, but I can't find them. I'm jolted out of my thoughts by the annoyingly high-pitched voice of the Capitol escort.

"Splendid! Just splendid! No volunteers? A nice change! And now, without further ado, it is time to select our male tribute!"

She goes through the whole process with the reaping ball and swirly hands again, but I find myself unable to concentrate. All I can think about is Ami and the terrible, heartbroken look on her face. And that's when I make the most important decision of my life.

I will come home to Ami. And I won't let anything or anyone get in my way.

Clos Gold POV

Soon. Just a couple more seconds now, and the moment I have been waiting for my entire life will have finally arrived. I brace myself, keeping my mind on nothing but what I'm about to do, although my mind slips briefly onto the events that took place just about a minute ago.

I can't believe the foreigner was reaped! I mean, what are the odds, right? I'm glad no one bothered to volunteer for her. She was worthless anyway, and while I'm being honest, her and her girlfriend just made everyone around them uncomfortable wherever they went. Good riddance.

Alright, focus now. She has a slip in her hand (finally). She walks back over to her microphone and starts to unfold it while I prepare myself internally for what is to come next.

"Crade Raven!"

I watch as a small boy from the thirteen-year-old section makes his way to the stage, not appearing worried in the slightest with the knowledge that someone is sure to volunteer for him.

Well, here goes nothing.

"I volunteer!" I cry out, my voice drowning out the chorus of at least a dozen other boys my age.

I race over to the stage, the grin on my face growing wider and wider with every inch that disappears between me and it.

Suddenly, a tall red-haired boy cuts me off, speeding towards the stage with a ravenous look on his face. Hell, no.

This is my year. My family legacy.

I pick up my pace, getting closer and closer to the red-haired boy who had passed me. Just one more inch…

Before I even register what I'm about to do, I reach over with my hand and skillfully shove him forcefully, sending him painfully to the ground. That'll show him.

I waste no more time and hop onto the stage, grinning maliciously at the crowd below, particularly the boys who'd tried to outrun me. How they even DREAMED they could beat me, I'll never know. I'm Clos

Gold, for Christ's sake!

I search the crowd for Platinum and find her grinning at me in the happiest way. _You did it, baby. _I can practically hear her say it.

I look over at my father, and he simply nods approvingly. _Good job, son._ Maybe I've finally given him a reason to be proud of me.

Not likely.

"Ladies and gentlemen of District 1, I give you Clos Gold and Maura Elaine James! How about a round of applause for our potential victors, shall we?"

Victor. Potential victor. Not victors. There's no way that foreigner is coming home. It was always supposed to be me.

Let the games begin.

Maura Elaine James POV

The minutes that come after the male reaping are a blur. I remember hearing the escort call the name of that smug blond boy who was standing next to me and Ami, and shaking his hand, but that's about it. I am escorted to a tiny room in the so-called Justice Building to wait. Wait for what, I have no idea. But that's what they told me to do. Wait.

So, wait I do.

After just several seconds, the door bursts open, revealing my aunt and uncle with Rose and a tear-soaked Ami. My uncle's face is clear of emotion, while my aunt has a haunted look on her face and her eyes are shiner than usual. Rose, of course, is happy to see me – completely oblivious to the terrible incident that just took place.

The room is silent. Finally, I am the one who fills the silence.

"So…what now?"

"Listen, I know this is scary. I know you don't fully understand what you've gotten into, but just remember not to trust anyone. Form an alliance but keep you guard up at all times. These Games are no joke." My uncle says firmly.

"Of course." I don't know what else to say.

Suddenly, both my aunt and uncle have wrapped their arms around me. I hug them back, holding back the fury that has taken over me and the tears burning behind my closed eyelids. They finally let go at the sound of Rose's little baby voice.

"Mar-uh!"

Just the same as always, that same blissful tone heard only by children her age. I scoop her into my lap and press her close to me.

"I need to go away for a while. But I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. And then we can play with your dollies and teddy bears again just like we used to. Ami will take care of you." I know she barely understands any of this, but I feel the need to say it anyway. I can't just leave her like that.

I look over at Ami, who has completely averted her gaze from me. Something about the carpet has suddenly caught her eye, I suppose. My aunt and uncle seem to sense the tension.

"I guess we'll leave you too alone now. Good luck Maura, I'll be calling your mother to-" She chokes up, and finally leaves the room without finishing her sentence. My uncle follows her out, Rose under one arm.

That leaves me and Ami. The silence is long and awkward, but eventually Ami breaks it.

"I should have volunteered."

I just stare.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I understand the games. I've been watching them every year for eighteen years! I would be much more prepared for this than you."

"No, Ami. Never say that! Do you understand? I would never allow you to be in that kind of danger. You need to be strong for Aunt Kaitlyn and Uncle Brian and Rose. Please, whatever you see on that damned TV screen, don't EVER lose faith. Do you hear me?"

I don't realize how much my voice has risen until that very last question. Ami finally looks up at me, her eyes glistening.

"Maur-" she chokes.

And then, before I can even say anything, she's practically on top of me with her arms around me with her face buried in my blouse and soaking me with her tears.

"Ami. Ami, it's okay. I WILL come back to you guys. Alright. I'm not going anywhere."

She lifts her head and looks into my eyes, her face half-crumpled in pain. I feel my own eyes tearing up, and struggle to force the emotion back in.

"Promise me." she says, her broken voice barely above a whisper.

I almost don't notice the heart-shaped pendant she slips into my hand. I know she wants me to keep it, and so I will. I stare into her eyes for a moment before nodding my head, allowing a single tear to fall down my face.

"I swear, Ami."

Clos Gold POV

I sit in the tribute room, admiring the luxury surrounding me. It's not much, but that only makes me more excited for what is to come in the Capitol. I can't believe I'm actually here. This room has been one part of my many Hunger Games-related fantasies ever since I learned what the Games even were. And now, it's finally all coming true.

My first visitors are my parents. Oh, god.

"Congratulations, Clos. You're finally fulfilling your life's true purpose." My father says smugly.

God, I hate him.

"I figured I'd give you a token of good luck, so…here." He says, placing a small leather bracelet in my hand.

"What's this?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"It was my token during my games. Your mother didn't have a token in hers, so I thought I'd give you mine. Good luck, and all that."

Wow. Maybe he does sort of care. Actually, no. All he cares about is the family legacy.

Just like I should.

"Thanks, Dad." I force myself to say, "Don't worry about the legacy, I'll do the Golds justice."

He grunts unintelligibly in response. My mother stares at me coldly.

"Put you training to good use, Clos."

"I will." I'm too drained to argue, or say anything else.

I just want to leave this room and get on my way to the Capitol, where I truly belong.

My parents leave the room without any sort of good-bye. I know their way of thinking by now. They're so confident in me winning that they don't feel the need to. And on the near-impossible chance that I don't, well, I wasn't worth a good-bye anyways. Oh,well. Doesn't matter, cause It's obvious I'll come home.

My next visitor is Platinum.

She waltzes into the room with all her grace and beauty, her auburn hair pulled out of its pony tail and falling to her mid-back, teal eyes just glowing with happiness. The only person who has ever had enough sense to appreciate me.

"I am so happy for you, Clos! I knew you could do it! Now you can finally live your dream"

She beams at me, and I can't help but smile back. I love her so much.

"I'll be back soon, baby, don't you worry." I say, wrapping my arms around her.

She leans into my embrace and kisses me.

"Why would I be worried? Of course you'll come back. You'll be the best one in there. You're absolutely amazing and there's no way you won't win. I'll just miss you so much…"

I lift her chin up so her eyes meet mine.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"Please hurry," she says with a cute little grin.

"Of course"

And then we kiss passionately until a peacekeeper – thankfully not one of Platinum's parents – comes in to tear us apart.

It's time to do what I was born to do, and win the Hunger Games.

**A/N God, I am so nervous to hear what you guys have to say! Anyways, I just want to clear up some things. You guys will have a lot of say as to what goes on in the story. I will take all review requests (or PM whatever) into consideration. There is no sponsor system, and as long as you don't ask me to kill another tribute (apart from your own of course) I will see what I can do. BUT. If you absolutely want to see something happen with someone else's character, I will just ask the person who submitted the character if its okay and were GOOD to go J **

**So, um, yeah. I think that's pretty much it. Oh, wait;**

**Note: I am not in any way homophobic. I was just trying to portray Clos' cocky and superior nature when he mocks Ami and Maura. Also, I'm sorry if the good-byes were too sappy; it's a problem of mine haha. **

**Reviews are love! Please let me know what you guys thought, it motivates and helps me a lot!**

**Hopefully I'll have the D2 reapings up fairly soon. **


	2. D2 reaping

**/N Hey guys!**

**So, I'm back…exactly a month later. I'm REALLY sorry about that, but I can explain. **

**At first, it was school like I said. But then, I started getting sick. I don't mean, like, having the flu. I mean, I was literally throwing up every two days for no reason. (Sorry if you're squeamish.) It turned out to be nothing, just some digestion issues but it really drained me. So, I wrote a little bit each day. I didn't want the chapter to be crappy and rushed, because that wouldn't be fair to the people who submitted the D2 tributes. That's why it took so long. But I'm okay now, and the updates should be a little faster now depending on how big of a social life I have. Sorry if this was too detailed but I didn't wanna leave you all hanging after a whole month :P **

**Anywho, I'd just like to thank everyone for the super nice and motivating reviews! They all made me so happy (and relieved haha). I noticed that some of you don't even have tributes in the story and I appreciate that you still took the time to read my story and that you enjoyed it. I have underlined AND bolded the POVs since I got requests for both of those options…sorry if my formatting confused you guys :P **

**Anyway, I guess that's it. Hopefully no one has unsubscribed after the long wait…enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Anyonka Elizabeth Condro POV**

_Whoosh._ Another knife sails through the air, piercing the training dummy right in the chest a few feet away. Had that been a tribute in the Games, they would have been finished. Done. Dead as a doorknob.

And soon someone will be, for that exact reason. This year is my year to volunteer.

My mother is pretty afraid – which is somewhat understandable. My older sister, Oksana, died in the Games when she was 18, and I'm only 17. But I'm not worried. I won't make her mistake.

The only reason I'm even here is for some last minute touch-ups. Just getting myself warmed up one last time before heading over to the Big Bad Games. Besides, I'm gonna miss this place. Such great memories were made at the training center…like that one time I accidentally cut Rosel Francheli with my knife. Ha. That was funny.

Anyway, back to more important things. I switch station, heading over to the archery section for the last time. As I warm up on my favorite bow, I think of how lucky I am to even HAVE the opportunity to participate in the Hunger Games. My parents both fought against the districts in the Mockingjay rebellion around thirty years ago. I can't believe that Katniss Everdeen. Did she really think she'd be able to put an end to the Games? Please. She was so delusional.

My mother ended up suffering the consequences of that rebellion. Say ONE small thing, and suddenly you're turned into an Avox. Disgusting.

Anyways, whatever. I have more important things to think about at the moment. Training.

I take a few shots at the dummy, all my bows hitting the clearly marked spot where the vital organs would be hit on a live body except one. I shoot at the dummy again, just to be sure, and the arrow slashes right through the middle of the dummy's forehead. The brain. Not even the strongest career would stand a chance.

Satisfied with my last-minute training, I decide it's time to go home. I gather my things, packing my training bag neatly, and leave the arrows and other equipment right where I left them. Why should I pick them up? Someone else can do it. Besides, I need to look my best for the reaping.

I run into my best friend Carmelita Santya on the way out of the training center.

"Hey, Carm."

"Hey, Anyonka! So, this year's the big year, eh? Volunteering at last!"

"Yup. The big year, all right."

"Soo jealous! I wish I were brave enough to volunteer at 17. But, whatever, next year will be my turn."

"Yup. Then we can finally get out of this dump full of losers and live in the Victor's village."

Three girls our age who happen to be passing by send glares my way, overhearing my comment about the losers who don't volunteer. Oh, well. They know it's the truth.

I turn my attention back to Carmelita, "Well, I need to go get ready. I'll see you later?"'

"Yeah, I need to get ready too. See you later An!" she replies.

And with that, we head off in opposite directions towards our houses. The walk is sort of long – about 15 minutes or so – but bearable. All I need to do is mentally go through all my training techniques. How to throw a knife, shoot a bow…hell, they even taught us how to stalk other tributes. I do it all in my mind. Mentally going through the motions so that, when the time comes in real life, it'll be a piece of cake.

As I approach my house, I can hear voices coming from inside it. Surely, the house is in total chaos, as it always is the morning of the reaping.

I push the door open, only to have it hit my 14-year-old sister Cassandra who was fixing her hair in the mirror of the doorway.

"Ow!" she cries, rubbing the elbow that was hit, "Watch it!"

"Well, what the hell were you doing in the doorway, Cass?" I retort.

"I'm fixing my hair! It has to be perfect, and I'd suggest you leave this doorway free 'cause I also have my makeup to do."

I leave the doorway and head up to my room with a sigh. Typical Cassandra. I mean, I actually HAVE to look good because I'm volunteering. She's just overly obsessed with fashion and makeup. She's going to be the only one out of all my siblings and I to not participate in the Games; she wants to be a stylist at the Capitol. Odd, but at least she'll get to live in the Capitol. Our oldest brother is 26, and is a Peacekeeper in District 7 now. Very well-paid. He won his Games at 17, just like I will.

I run into my mother on the way to my room, and she gives me a small smile, obviously unable to say anything verbally. I smile back and walk into my room, locking the door behind me to block out the sound of Cassandra asking everyone where her mascara is.

**Ryker Hero POV**

I narrow my eyes, focusing on nothing else but the training dummy in front of me, my eyes shifting one by one to each bright orange section marking a vital organ. Make a split-second decision on which one to aim for. The heart. I take aim, swing my arm back and shoot, the knife whipping through the air at what seems like lightning speed before finally embedding itself into the dummy's chest. Right through the middle of its non-existent heart.

To be honest, I really didn't even feel like coming here today. I just want to get these Games over with, to prove to my parents and witch of a sister that I'm not as pathetic and useless as they think I am.

I will never forget that night…

I am sixteen, sitting on my king-sized bed, waiting for her to arrive. Her name is Thornia Briar, and I met her about five minutes ago in the local club of District 2, the only one we have. We were both a little more than tipsy, and I invited her to come over for a little fun. She agreed, telling me she just needed to go home and change into something more "comfortable". To be honest, I don't really see the point. She'll be naked within minutes either way.

The minutes continue to pass, and I find myself starting to get worried. What if she's passed out in her house and I'm just sitting here like an idiot for no reason? My frustration builds, until I'm about to shut my light off and just go to bed, when a sudden burst of sound stops me, making me jump.

The doorbell.

I rush down the large, spiraling staircase and over to the door. I open it, finding myself face-to-face with Thornia, wearing nothing but lacey lingerie.

"Now _this _is what I call comfortable!" she says with a little giggle.

I grin at her, causing her eyes to widen and her breathing to pick up speed. I've never really understood the effect I have on girls, although it can be rather amusing. I guess I'm just, well, attractive.

I scoop her up into my arms, making her squeal in surprise and then dissolve into giggles, carrying her up the staircase and into my room where I lay her down gently on my bed. Things start to get heated. Within a minute she has completely undressed me and I am kissing her neck.

Our night of fun has begun.

Several hours later, we are still laying on my bed in each other's arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other, both just on the edge of sleep.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, revealing my father in his Peacekeeper uniform. He usually never comes home this early. His face is flushed with utter fury. He points a finger towards Thornia, making her cringe in fear.

"You! Get the hell out of my house, you dirty slut!"

She springs up with a speed that's almost comical and bolts out of the room, not even bothering to put her clothes back on. My father's eyes don't leave her until she is completely out of sight.

At the sound of our front door slamming shut, he turns to me with an evil glint in his eye that I've never seen before.

"Son, who was that?" he asks, completely calm, which in many ways is ten times worse than him yelling, "How many times has she been here?"

I don't give him an answer, frozen in terror. He then slaps me right across the face, nearly knocking me to the ground.

"I asked you a question. How many times has that whore been here?!"

I rub my hand against the cheek he hit, feeling the warmth underneath as the blood rises up beneath my skin.

"She's never been here before tonight." I respond, my voice weaker than I would have liked.

My father ponders this for a second. He must believe me, because the next question has nothing to do with Thornia.

"How many other girls have been here?"

I stand my ground, remaining completely silent. What am I supposed to say to that? But, then I see my father raising his arm to hit me again and the answer just blurts thoughtlessly out of me.

"I don't know! I – I've lost count."

My father lowers his arm slowly. His face turns redder and redder as he realizes what this means.

"You are not my son. YOU ARE NOT MY SON!"

"Dad, no, please, just..just calm down-"

"Calm down?! CALM DOWN?! Look at what you're doing!"

He punches me in the face, this time knocking me down completely, and starts to kick me in the side again and again. I find myself starting to cry, against my own will, begging him to stop, to hear me out. I apologize over and over but he doesn't listen. He just continues to beat me, all of my pleads and apologies completely in vain, too late to mean anything.

He and my mother basically disowned me that night. My fifteen-year old sister Alexis visits me from time to time, but she's horrible to me, obviously believing everything that's been brainwashed into her by my parents for the past two years. She was sleeping at a friend's house that night, and probably doesn't even know the actual story. I live on my own now in a crammed apartment, the complete opposite of the huge, lavish house my Peacekeeper parents owned.

I put my knife back on the rack, fed up with the training. After packing my things, I look over to the right only to see that the girl who was there just a few minutes ago has left her knives and arrows scattered all over the place. I shake my head in disgust as I try to remember the girl's name… Annika, Anonkya? Something like that. One year below me in training and age.

I pick up her abandoned weapons and place them in the right racks before getting my bag and leaving the training centre for the last time. This part of my life is over. Today is when a new part begins…

I will prove to my former family what I am worth. They will wish they'd never disowned me. I'll let them know what they've been missing for the past two years, after I win the Hunger Games.

**Anyonka Elizabeth Condro POV**

I sigh as I open my closet at the realization that I'll actually have to put some thought into my reaping outfit this year. I work my way through the rack of outfits, pushing hanger after hanger off to the side until I finally settle on a dark blue sleeveless dress with lacey black fabric over the skirt that I don't even remember buying. I hastily put it on and turn towards my mirror, appraising my appearance.

The dress is actually very nice. It falls right above my knees and the slightly sequined sweetheart neckline looks great on me. I brush my through my wavy black hair and put some light makeup on, no lipstick of course. People have always commented on how naturally red my lips are. And my eerily pale skin, but that's another story.

I nod at my reflection, satisfied, and make my way downstairs. Cassandra and I are going to Carmelita's house, just like every year, only this time Oksana won't be with us.

"Cass, you almost ready?" I cry out, not knowing where she is in the house.

"One sec, my makeup isn't done yet!" Cassandra calls out from her room upstairs.

"No, Cass, the reaping starts in twenty minutes, we need to go!" I yell in frustration towards the general direction of her room.

Suddenly, she is walking down the stairs, wearing a simple purple dress with her hair all nicely styled and her makeup done to perfection.

"Jesus Cass. Carmelita is waiting, let's go!"

After quick good-bye to our parents, we head out the door towards Carmelita's house. She opens the door with an excited smile. She looks good too, in a simple light blue blouse and black skirt.

"Hey guys! All ready to go?" she asks excitedly.

Sentery Astono steps into the doorway from in the house. He's my other best friend besides Carmelita.

"Wow, An, you look amazing!" he exclaims, looking me up and down.

Did I mention that he has a MAJOR crush on me? Well, he does. But he doesn't know that I know and I don't feel the same way. At all. It's strictly friendship between he and I, and that's the way it's going to stay.

"Thanks." I reply dryly, "Now let's get to the reaping, already, I of all people cant be late!"

We leave the house without another word and make our way over to the town square, making easy conversation as we walk.

"So, Cass," Carmelita says, turning towards my sister with a mischievous grin, "What's the occasion?"

Cass rolls her eyes playfully, "Oh, please, this is nothing compared to last year…"

Ah, last year. My sister had truly overdone it, sporting a sparkling silver floor-length gown to the reaping. She was the most dolled-up thirteen year old there, and, to say he least, I was pretty embarrassed. I almost didn't talk to her for two days. But, oh well. What's done is done.

As Carmelita and Cassandra continue to laugh about my sister's fashion sense, Sentery takes the opportunity to focus all his attention on me.

"Are you sure you want to volunteer, An? I mean, you're only seventeen." He observes.

Hell no. He is not pulling this shit on me now.

"Sent, I'm volunteering. I know I can win it, trust me. Besides, next year is Carm's year."

"Carm can volunteer this year."

I raise an eyebrow. "So, it's okay if Carmelita volunteers, but not me? What's your deal?"

"I'm just worried, okay?"

"Well, don't be. I'll be fine. I'm volunteering, Sent." I snap.

He doesn't respond. I pick up my pace, walking ahead of the others towards the check-in booths.

I say my name and stick my hand out towards the Capitol freak, already knowing the drill for the past five reapings. She pricks it swiftly and wipes away the blood, not even saying a word to me.

"Next!"

I step away from the booth, letting Carmelita take my place. Once we've all been checked in, Carmelita, Sentery and I make our way to the seventeen section while Cass goes to the fourteens. I breath in slowly, taking it all in. Finally, the year for me to volunteer. I watch as the Capitol escort steps onto the stage, tapping her microphone annoyingly to see if it's on.

At least this is the last time I need to go through this bullshit.

**Ryker Hero POV**

I step into my apartment with a sigh, trying my hardest to shake off all of the bad memories that were running through my mind the entire way home. I head over to my room, rearranging and putting things away here and there in an attempt to keep the apartment looking decent. What the hell am I going to wear to this thing?

I look through my clothes – which isn't much compared to what I used to have – for something presentable. After all, I can't volunteer for the Games looking like a complete slob, right? Potential Capitol sponsors will be watching, and first impression is almost everything.

I finally settle with a plain black t-shirt and ripped up jeans. Casual with a slight edge. The Capitol will love it. I head over to my bathroom then to fix my hair and brush my teeth. I carefully comb my wispy black hair, making it look as appealing as possible.

Sometimes I can't help but see my father in my own reflection. I turn away from the mirror and start off for the reaping – anything to get that image out of my head. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Hey, Ryker, looking good!"

I turn towards the source of the voice only to see three girls staring at me with near-identical stares of dreamy attraction. The blond haired one appears to be the one who complimented me, judging by the scarlet coloring of her face. Ha.

"Thanks, I guess. You look great too," I say politely, "And so do your friends." Can't leave them out.

The other two girls, a brunette and a redhead squeal with delight at this and I can't help but crack a smile. The redhead speaks up, then.

"So, Ryker, I heard you were volunteering this year…you are SOO brave…" she whispers.

"Yeah…gotta keep the district proud, right?" I say with a grin that inexplicably makes all three of them blush.

"Of course, and, like, you're obviously gonna win. I mean, you're you." The brunette says, twirling her hair around one finger.

"Of course." I reply.

"Well, good luck, Ryker!" the blond exclaims with a little wave.

Without another word, they turn away and begin walking towards the town square where the reaping is being held.

Well, that was…odd.

**Anyonka Elizabeth Condro POV**

"Welcome, welcome, to the official reaping of the 102nd annual Hunger Games!" the escort calls out with a stupidly excited grin practically reaching her temples.

As if there was ever a non-official reaping. Please. I turn to Carmelita and Sent and sigh exaggeratedly, making them snicker.

"So, how are you all doing?" the escort inquires, staring eagerly at the audience through her unnatural silver eyes.

No answer. Obviously.

After a few awkwardly silent seconds, the escort finally clears her throat, taking the mic back into her hand.

"Alrighty then. Let's break tradition; males first!"

She dips her hand into the boys bowl, a Chesire cat-like grin on her face, and swiftly pulls out a slip.

"Callaway Brambleton!"

The fourteen-year-old boy barely has time to register his name when a voice suddenly shouts out the two magic words.

"I volunteer!"

…along with about six or seven others, of course.

**Ryker Hero POV**

I make my way over to the 18 section, still internally laughing over the three girls I ran into earlier.  
I just can't seem to wrap my head around the things they were saying to me. They've never seen me train, how can they be so sure I'll win. I mean, I will, but, how could they know? I shake my head to dismiss the questions running through my mind and start searching for my best friend, Mason. I spot him at the last second, way in the back with his blond hair and green eyes and start walking towards him.

"Hey, Mason, can we go a little closer to the front? There's no way either of us will get to that stage first if we stand back here."

"Honestly, man, what would I do without you?" he asks, grinning up at me.

We begin making our way to the front.

"So, what happens if neither of us end up in the Games? That would suck, wouldn't it?" Mason asks jokingly.

"Mason, don't jinx it! God."

"Oh, come on, don't get all superstitious on me!"

I don't have time to reply; the escort is talking. I completely tune her out, keeping my ears peeled for the one important thing she says…the name of the person I'll be replacing.

I accidentally catch my sister's eye in the 15 section. She doesn't notice me, but it's painful and distracting enough that I almost miss the name.

The next few seconds are a blur. I shout the two words as loud as possible, registering Mason's voice beside me saying the same thing, and charge.

As it turns out, Mason and I moving to the front really did have its advantages. Most other guys have given up the chase, and those who didn't are far enough away that we don't need to worry about them. Just me and Mason, fighting for the one available spot in the Games.

I see the stage now, just a foot away from me. This is it. I sprint forward and up the small steps, Mason just barely missing it. I made it.

I hear Mason behind me, "Aw, damn! Well, I'm glad you were the one to beat me, Ryker!"

I turn with an apologetic smile, and he just grins back at me.

"Good luck man."

With that, he turns around and heads back to the 18 section with two thumbs up pointed in my direction. Typical Mason, taking everything positively.

I spot my sister in the crowd, a look of absolute shock on her face. And then at my mother, who just seems indifferent. Lastly, my father, his stare cold and blank.

I will not let that stare break me. Not this time.

I zone out again, daydreaming of the look on my father's face when I finally come home. The only thing I hear is the female name being called out.

"Marguerita Hawkmoore!"

No reaction from anyone in the audience; the girl surely knows someone will volunteer.

Which someone does. Actually, around three people.

The competition for volunteering is never as fierce with the girls. A girl from the 17 section races forward and smoothly mounts the stage, all in about ten seconds. I wonder if I was that fast.

After the typical introductions are made, the magic moment arrives. We are being announced.

"Ladies and gentleman, I present you, Ryker Hero and Anyonka Elizabeth Condro, this year's tributes of District 2!"

We turn to each other and shake hands. I can't seem to stop looking at the girl's lips. They're so red, I can't help but wonder what kind of lipstick she's using that seems so realistic, almost like she isn't wearing lipstick at all. Those red lips curl into a small smirk as she releases my hand.

At least my district partner is interesting enough.

**Anoyonka Elizabeth Condro POV**

At least my district partner is interesting enough. Doesn't seem like a typical bloodthirsty career, which is a nice breath of fresh air. I make my way over to the tribute room and wait.

Can we skip this part, please? So useless.

The first people to come visit me are my family. My father is the first to speak.

"Well, this is it Anyonka. Our third child is entering the Games. I'm sure your brother will be proud. And-and so will your sister, Oksana."

Well. This is awkward. I force a smile, willing him to continue.

"Just don't forget all the tips I've given you. I'm not a victor for no reason, you know." He says with a wink.

I smile for real this time. I can't wait to be a victor myself. Then all of this training can finally pay off.

My father gives me a slightly awkward, one-armed hug before finally stepping back with my mother and Cassandra. My mother does the same, giving me a small smile that holds all the words she wishes she could say out loud. I smile back, assuring her that I understand. I hear her.

I turn towards Cassandra. The make-up she spent an hour applying was now all over her face.

"Are you seriously crying?" I tease with a smirk.

She glares tearily, "Shut up!"

Her gaze softens immediately after the words have escaped.

"I- I made you something."

She pulls something out of her small clutch and drops it into my lap. A small string bracelet, o obviously hand-made by my fourteen-year-old sister. For the first time this morning, I actually _feel_ something.

"You…you made this for me? But you hate making jewelry. I thought you only liked brand-name shit…"

"I do. But…this is different."

I look up from the bracelet and smile at my little sister.

"Thanks. Seriously. Wow, this is weird, but I think I'll actually miss you."

Cassandra rolls her eyes with a grin.

"Thanks."

We both laugh and hug each other.

"Don't try mom and dad crazy while I'm gone. Lay off the make-up and shit for a while, alright?"

Cassandra shakes her head.

"You know I can't do that, right?"

**Ryker Hero POV**

The tribute room is relatively peaceful until Mason shows up, whooping loudly as he opens the door.

"Jesus, Mason, you're gonna get yourself kicked out. And there's another tribute, you know."

"Who cares, man? You made it! You're in the Games! Oh, what I'd give to be in your shoes right now.." he trails off, his eyes glazing over dreamily.

He snaps out of it quickly enough.

"But, it okay. I can now live vicariously through you, my friend! An if you die, I'll still be safe and alive." He adds with a grin.

I can't help but crack a smile. Oh, Mason.

"But, seriously bro, you better come back. Who else will I have to prank people and run from peacekeepers with?" he jokes.

"Mason, neither of us have ever run from a peacekeeper ever." I point out.

"Yeah, but one day we will!"

I laugh at this with a shake of my head, but I can't seem to hold the smile.

"I'll see you in two weeks?" I ask, holding out my hand for Mason to shake.

He takes my offer and shakes my hand. "Yup, two weeks. Or one, if you hurry up.

**Anyonka Elizabeth Condro POV**

A knock on the door. I open it, revealing Carmelita, Sent and, surprisingly, Rosel Franchelli on the other side.

Carmelita immediately gathers me into a hug.

"Good luck, An. I know you can do it!" she smiles with one last squeeze.

I smile back at her.

"So do I."

"You cocky bitch."

We both burst into laughter before the room is once again immersed in awkward silence. I turn towards Rosel.

"So, I'm genuinely curious. Shouldn't you be extremely upset that I beat you to the stage?"

"Oh, I am.", she responds, "I am actually _extremely _upset. But, you deserve to be in those Games as much as I do, so…good luck."

I smile at her. "Thanks. But, hey, you can always volunteer next year, right? That is, you'd still have to beat Carmelita to the stage."

Carmelita nods her head at this, while Rosel just grins.

"I'll make sure of it."

Before Carmelita could protest, Sentery speaks up. "Hey, guys, can we…have a minute?"

Carmelita and Rosel exchange slightly sadistic grins and immeadiately leave the room squealing and giggling like two downright fools.

More awkward silence. Sent is the first to break it.

"So…you volunteered."

"Yup, I did."

Even more silence.

"You know I wish you hadn't done it."

I can't find anything to say to that.

"You know, Anyonka, I've been meaning to tell you this for some time, but I really li-"

"I know." I cut him off.

I can see the shock register on his face that he immediately tries to hide.

"But…how-"

"You weren't exactly subtle about it. I'm sorry, Sent, but I just don't feel the same way."

Sentery looks down at his feet sadly and I almost feel bad. Almost.

Before I can register what's going on, he's crossed the room and is kissing me. I just sit there in shock and he pulls away before I can, his face red as a tomato.

"I'm sorry, I just – I had to – do that…just once."

With that, he sprints from the room.

Good God, what will I come back to in two weeks?

**Ryker Hero POV**

Now that Mason's gone, I can finally relax and just mentally prepare myself for the Games. What will my strategy be? Will I join the Careers?

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening. But who the hell could that be? I turn towards the door to see none other than Thornia, the last girl I took home on that awful, awful night.

Christ.

Her eyes are glued to the floor, completely avoiding my gaze.

"If you want me to leave, I completely understand."

I just stare at her dumbfounded.

"No, no…please come in."

She hesitates for a second, but finally decides to shut the door behind her. She walks over to me with such a heartbroken, haunted look on her face that I almost want to turn away from her.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry." She says, her voice barely a whisper.

I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn't.

"For- for what?"

"I know what happened to you. I know that your father disowned you and I just wanted you to know that I'm so so sorry. You didn't deserve that." She stops speaking, trying to stop the tears that are now threatening to flow and failing.

She continues speaking.

"You know, my own parents never loved me. I was abused and neglected. I became a – a whore, as you father so nicely put it. And I know it wasn't the right thing to do and I know I should have gotten help but I didn't. And now, because of me, someone else has no parents. It's my fault that this happened to you, just like every other bad thing that happens!"

At this point she is openly sobbing, and I'm shedding a few tears myself.

"Listen, Thornia. It's not your fault. I used to bring girls home every weekend. I was as big a "whore" as you! And I didn't even have a reason! Just please stop blaming yourself, because it won't change anything that happened. Besides, you allowed me to see my father's true colors that night, and for that I thank you."

Thornia looks up at me with her mascara-streaked face and tear-filled eyes and suddenly, without warning, leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

"Thank you," she says shakily. "I want you to have this."

Thornia then removes her leather necklace from around her neck and holds it out to me.

"Your token. This way, all throughout the Games, you'll have a constant reminder that even if your father and mother aren't there for you, I still am."

And with that, she turns around and leaves the room.

Maybe I will have something to come back to in two weeks, besides a pleasurably surprised and angry father.

**A/N**

**So, yeah…I hope this was okay :/ I'm genuinely sorry if it isn't….I thought these characters were pretty difficult to write, so if I did anything wrong please let me know! Remember, constructive criticism is always welcome, just no flames! **

**Also, I'm leaving on vacation for a week starting tomorrow, so the next update should come in about 2 weeks. I'll try to write as much as I can while I'm away, but just so you guys know not to expect anything until after the 26****th****. Hope you all liked it and see you next time! (which hopefully is soon enough)**


	3. D3 reaping

**/N Hey guys!**

**This could have been up a lot sooner had I not left for vacation, but it's here now! I didn't wanna rush it. :P The next two tributes (and first non-careers) have arrived! Here is the District Three Reaping, hope you enjoy it! J **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Rick Sparks POV**

People are so pitiful.

The way they move through life thinking it has some great meaning that needs to be solved, doing exactly what the world expects of them. Never once questioning what the _point _of it all is. Seriously. You go through years and years of the torture that is school, a place that supposedly "teaches" you things (in reality they're just brainwashing you), then you go though years and years of work, basically just acting as another puzzle piece of society keeping it all intact. And then, your body slowly shuts down and you die.

Sweet, sweet freedom.

I kick a pebble out of my way as I walk down the grey streets of District 3. That's really the best word you can use to describe this place: grey. Everything. The sky, the road, heck even the people are starting to look a little grey. Not that it matters.

I just don't understand why people think life is so important. Why do people see death as such a negative thing? What even _is _life? It's boring and useless. Nothing ever happens. People betray you, cheat you, and those who actually treat you well are eventually taken away from you. Life is just an illusion of something important, but really it's nothing. Just nothing.

People just don't see that. And it's pretty shameful.

I take a quick glance at the people around me. There are very few, mostly people bustling about, trying to get some last minute errands done before the reaping.

The reaping. Just one more pointless thing I have to go through every single year. Personally, I don't see the point in the Games either. So, the districts rebelled. Get the hell over it and move on. Who cares? I guess people will never stop caring so much…

I make a detour and begin heading for home. I can't watch these people anymore. They're so pathetic it almost makes me sick.

I overhear countless conversations on the way home, almost all of them about the Games and the reaping and how terrified they are to get reaped. Personally? I think being reaped is a blessing in disguise. At least something somewhat interesting is going on in your life. Not nearly interesting enough, though. Nothing ever is.

I pick up my pace as my house, grey like everything else, comes into view. I just want to get this reaping over with for the fourth time.

Not that I have anything more important to do but, hey-

That's life.

**Jade Astoria POV**

Life is so exciting! Always a new opportunity to learn, even on the morning of the reaping. Knowledge should never be wasted, even if school is out for the day.

I flip over to the next page of my science book. This book actually belonged to my older brother Zoro. He's nineteen and hasn't needed the book since he started working. I'm sure he doesn't mind me reading it, especially considering he's never home anyway.

I skim through the facts listed on the page, searching for something I don't already know.

_Every year, over one million earthquakes shake the Earth. _

One million! I've never even felt one! That means there must be more to this world than the districts and the Capitol! Unless, of course, the earthquakes are at too low a strength to feel…I shake my head in wonder before turning back to the book for a new fact. I'll have to bring this discussion up with my best friend Estelle.

_The average person falls asleep in seven minutes._

Not me! It usually takes me hours before I finally fall asleep…too many thoughts and facts and theories running through my mind.

So many interesting things to ponder about life, and what it means!

The sound of my sister's voice startles me, making me jump in my seat.

"Jade! Get ready for the reaping, I wanna get this over with. And for the love of God, put that science book down, why would you _willingly _do work?!"

Sigh. Typical Zara. It often shocks me that she's Zoro's twin, considering how all he does is work while she practically never leaves her bed.

I'm about to reply when she starts speaking again, "Oh, and I already picked out your outfit since it always takes you for-flipping-ever to decide. It's on your bed."

Now I'm afraid.

I turn away from my desk and look over at my bed, where a dress has been carelessly thrown. I get up and take the dress, examining every inch of it. A very simple dress, really. Short and plain black. I remember my sister wearing it to the reaping before my first, when she was fourteen. She was pretty tall for her age.

I absolutely despise it.

But I suppose I should wear it. Zara will be angry and hurt and nobody wants that.

Besides, the sooner I get ready, the sooner I can get back to doing what I do best: learning.

**Rick Sparks POV**

I step into the house, ignoring the greetings of my parents. What's the point in acknowledging them? They know I'm not deaf. I head over to my room, which once had plain white walls that have now turned grey over time. Sometimes I wonder what color the walls would be if I moved to another district. I mean, who knows? Maybe in District 4 everything is blue, like the ocean. Oh, well. I guess I'll never know. As if it matters anyway.

I head over to my closet and fling the door open. I don't have very many clothes. It isn't necessary. I  
will never understand those girls I see around the district who are constantly buying new outfits. What's the point in having so many clothes? The ones you had before were perfectly fine! But whatever. At least I know I've got the right idea.

I pull out a pair of jeans and a random shirt which turns out to be black and put them on, not a single thought running through my mind. I then walk over to my mirror, which I only ever use when I'm fixing my hair. If there's one thing I actually _almost _enjoy doing, it's fixing up my hair. I remember when I died it blue last summer, a week after my fourteenth birthday. I remember even clearer my mother yelling at me, telling me that blue hair was unnatural and not fit for a thirteen-year-old boy. She still wasn't used to the new age yet.

I just walked away as she yelled and went to take a nap. I can do what I want with my hair, anyway; its mine. It was at that time that I started using hair gel to spike it up, just cause I felt like it and it looked kinda cool against the tanned tone of my skin. Plus it was almost amusing to see the looks on certain people's faces whenever I walked by.

I spike up my hair with perfectly practiced fingers as the memories run through my mind. I don't have to concentrate when I do my hair…I can probably do it with my eyes closed.

Speaking of eyes, did I mention that they're grey? Yup. Can't catch a break.

When I'm finally satisfied with my hair (which actually only takes about two minutes), I head downstairs to go to the reaping. Yeah, I'm freakishly early, but hey it's not my fault I don't take an hour to get ready like everyone else!

I catch my mother's voice behind me just as I reach the door, "Where you going, Ricky? The reaping's not for at least another hour."

I close my eyes tightly and sigh. _Ricky. _I've told her so many times not to call me by that pointless nickname. However, I don't comment on it. Instead, I simply say, with my back still facing her, "Who cares?" and walk out the door.

**Jade Astoria POV**

I stare into my reflection in the mirror, trying ridiculously hard to smile. It comes out looking forced, and I find myself desperately shifting my eyes around the room so I don't have to look at it. Or the hideous dress.

"So, how do you like it? Pretty, huh? "

I simply nod my head, keeping the ridiculous smile on my face. What my sister doesn't know can't hurt her.

"I knew you'd love it, " Zara says with a smirk, "Now are we all ready to go? Drea! You ready? "

Drea, my other sister, steps into the room wearing a dress almost identical to mine except white. She simply nods her head, signifying she is ready to leave. I can tell she's nervous, even more nervous than usual. With good reason, of course. This is her first reaping.

Zara then leaves the room without a word, knowing Drea and I will follow and that Zoro will meet us there from work.

I put my arm around Drea's shoulders, startling her.

"Drea, don't worry about the reaping. It'll be fine, I promise."

She stares up at me with misty eyes.

"How do you know?" she asks shakily.

"Because I've been through four of them already. Besides, you only have one entry in there. I promise you that you won't be picked. It's mathematics, plain and simple. The odds are in your favor, logically."

Drea smiles at my words and nods her head in understanding.

"Thanks, Jade."

I just smile down at her, give her one last squeeze and then pick up my pace to catch up with Zara. Drea does the same beside me.

I take a deep breath as the square comes into view.

_This is it. _I think to myself, _Reaping number five. You can do this. It's logic. You won't be picked…_

But somewhere in my mind, a tiny part of me is still afraid.

**Rick Sparks POV**

The Capitol woman at the check-in booth seems shocked to already have a client. I simply stare blankly at her and hold out my hand. She knows the drill.

"Wh-why are you here so early?" she asks, eyes wide, "I haven't prepared my booth properly…"

I nod my head, letting her know that I don't mind waiting. I never do.

She rummages through her bag, searching for the list of names and the sharp object she will use to prick my finger. She then begins to talk to me as she looks.

"So, aren't you excited? It's reaping day!"

I just shrug, not really giving a shit if I'm being honest. The woman looks up at my lack of response, and we just stare at each other for several seconds. When she realizes she won't be getting an answer, she uneasily lowers her gaze back down to her bag, where she finally finds what she's looking for.

"Alrighty…name, please?"

"Rick Sparks."

She flips over to the "S" section of the list and hastily checks my name off and pricks my finger. I don't even flinch.

"Thank you, you're free to go. Happy Hunger Games!"

I am gone before she even finishes her sentence. What is there to be happy about? Pathetic.

I walk over to the empty 15 section, and patiently wait for the others to arrive. It's not like I've got anything better to do anyways.

**Jade Astoria POV**

After check-in, I immediately begin scanning the crowd for Estelle. I find her in about thirty seconds, still waiting in line for check-in. She is talking the ear off of the little boy beside her and I hold back a giggle at the look on his face. Typical Estelle. Sometimes I wish I was as sociable and outgoing as she is.

Suddenly, she catches my eye and the little boy she's talking to is forgotten.

"Jade! Hey, Jade! Wait up, I'll be there in a minute!"

I nod, giving her a thumbs up. As if I was going anywhere anyways. I then turn to Drea, who has started to tremble beside me.

"Drea, don't worry about it. The odds, remember? Just think of something happy, and it'll be over before you know it. Or just recite scientific facts in your head, like I do. Okay?"

She nods her head and heads over to the 12 section, still looking terrified and drained. I sigh and stare after her, wishing I could just remove all the negativity from her mind, when Estelle pops up next to me, her red hair glistening in the sun and green eyes sparkling with a grin on her face.

"Your sister will be fine, Jade! Don't worry about her. Come on, let's head over to our section before we end up in the back again like last year. We couldn't even see the tributes, remember?"

I nod, remembering. Being reaped last year would have been hellish with the section we were in.

We hurry over to the 16 section, Estelle talking about this and that the entire way. I just listen, like I usually do, and occasionally make a comment. As soon as we reach our section, the escort comes onto the stage, cutting off Estelle's grand tale of the lengths she took to avoid her "stalker" this morning. I think the guy just has a cute little crush on her, but that's my opinion.

"Welcome, all! Now, I know you are all just SO excited to see who this year's tributes are, so let's get started! Ladies first, of course."

The square gets quiet, then. So quiet you can hear a pin drop as the escort dips a purple tinted hand into the girls ball. All I can think in my head is that I hope it isn't me, or Drea, or Estelle…

_Please, please, please…_

"Jadelynn Astoria!"

I sigh in relief out of habit before I realize what she just said. _Jadelynn Astoria. _That's my name. I've been reaped.

The other girls in my age group have made a path for me, and Estelle is red in the face and teary-eyed.

"Jadelynn Astoria! Come on over, don't be shy sweetie!" the escort calls out in her microphone, eyes darting around the square, looking for me.

I stumble out of my section, realizing there's nothing I can do. My mind then takes a weird turn, a turn it hasn't been on in a long time; my parents. My parents, who died in a mechanic misfunction when I was five. My parents, whose names I don't remember. I can hear them laughing, my mother in her high-pitched, almost hyena-like giggles, and my father in his deep, hearty chuckles. It's all that's left of them in my memory.

I come back to reality and mount the stage, my wet cheeks telling me I must have cried a little without realizing. I wipe them away. I need to be strong now and think positive. Positive thinking always equals positive results, psychologically.

I look into the crowd, at the crying, devastated faces of Zara, Zoro and Drea and come to a conclusion.

I need to come back to them. They can't lose another piece of their family.

**Rick Sparks POV**

I watch as an amber-haired girl from the 16 section mounts the stage, silent tears stroking her face. All I can think of is how pointless her tears are! She should be embracing this…surely her life must have been just as boring as mine up until this moment. Oh, well. Not everyone thinks the same way.

The girl has just barely reached the stage when the escort returns to her mic.

"And now for the men, " she says, emphasizing the word men in an almost flirty tone of voice.

She reaches into the bowl and swiftly pulls out a slip.

"Munstead Hawksmoore!"

One of the twelve year olds bursts into tears on the spot and doesn't show any signs of moving.

Oh, what the heck. Might as well bring some "excitement" into my life.

I say the words loud and clear just as the peacekeepers begin making their way to the terrified boy.

"I volunteer."

The other boys my age stare at me in complete shock as I push my way through towards the stage. Even the escort seems shocked and I wonder for a second what the girl who checked me in is thinking right now.

"Ooh, it seems we have a volunteer! So exciting! What's your name, dear?"

I roll my eyes at "dear" and say my name in an emotionless tone.

"Rick Sparks."

"Oh, what a lovely name for a handsome young man! Love your hair!" she exclaims.

Of course she would love my hair. Hers is purple, nearly identical to the color of her skin.

"Right, now how about a warm round of applause for our latest tributes, Jadelynn Astoria and Rick Sparks!"

Yeah, yeah, let's cut to the chase already.

**Jade Astoria POV**

I sit in the tribute room, not thinking of anything but what's to come. What will my strategy be? What is the most logical way to win this? My thoughts are cut short when my siblings burst into the room, all blotchy-faced and puffy-eyed.

Zoro walks up to me first, and I can only imagine how similar we look right now. Everyone tells us we look almost exactly alike, even when we cry or laugh. I can see my devastation mirrored on his face.

"Listen, Jade. You can do this. You're one of the smartest people I know. You may not be very big or strong, but that doesn't matter! Those careers are all buff and no brain, your intelligence is so much more useful! I know you can make it, Jade."

He wraps his arms around me and steps away, letting my sisters take over.

Zara just pulls me into a hug and sobs while I rub her back and make promises to her that I'm not entirely sure I can keep. By the time she lets go, I'm sobbing almost as hard as she is.

That's when Drea steps forward, tears glistening in her eyes.

"I took this from mom and dad's old room while I was getting ready. I thought it would bring me good luck. But I don't need it now. You do."

She takes a deep, shaking breath before continuing.

"I want you to have this."

She opens her hand to reveal a gorgeous silver ring covered in diamonds, imported straight from district one.

My mother's engagement ring.

My mother's laughter rings through my mind again and my throat tightens with emotion, my eyes filling with tears.

"Th-thank you so much Drea. I love it."

I place the ring on my finger and turn to my siblings.

"I love you guys. I love you so much-"

Suddenly, we're in a very tight, very tearful group hug. We stay this way until the peacekeepers come to tear us apart.

My next visitor is Estelle.

She simply gives me a long, tight hug and smiles tearily at me.

"Promise me you'll come back?"

I nod my head, too emotional to respond with words.

"Good. If you don't I'll personally come to the Capitol and kick your ass."

We both laugh weakly at the joke before the room is immersed into silence again.

"I guess I'd better go. Those peacekeepers literally scare the shit out of me."

Estelle hugs me again with one more squeeze and leaves the room hastily to hide her emotion from me.

I've made too many promises today. Promises that I can't guarantee will be kept.

But I know I need to try. For Estelle. For my sisters and brothers. But, mostly, for my parents.

I stroke my mother's engagement ring, watching it sparkle under the light of the chandelier above my head.

_I'll make you proud, Mom and Dad. I know I will._

**Rick Sparks POV**

The most boring part of this entire ordeal has to be the tribute room. What's the point? Whether my parents see me again or not, life goes on, right? I asked the peacekeepers if I can just go straight to the bus and they downright refused. Something about "Capitol policy" or whatever.

Always so many rules.

My parents come into the room, both with a different expression on their face. My mother is simply devastated, tears pouring down her face like little waterfalls, whereas my father just looks shocked.

"Rick…I-I don't understand." my father says breathlessly, "Why would you volunteer for the Hunger Games of all things?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"I just felt like it. Things have been boring."

My father blinks at me, uncomprehending.

"You…you pretty much just voluntarily signed your own death sentence…because you _felt _like it? Because things were- were _boring?_" my father inquires, voice rising towards the end.

I simply nod my head, his increasing anger not fazing me in the slightest.

It is my mother who changes the athmosphere.

"Please, honey, don't upset him. If he wanted to go to the Games, so be it. But let's not spend these last moments with him yelling at him like this." She says, her eyes impossibly filling with even more tears.

She then pulls me into a hug, which I don't return, my father doing the same once she lets go.

There are footsteps heading towards the room. The peacekeepers are finally coming to get my parents. At last.

"We'll be rooting for you Ricky!"

"Do us a favor and come home alright?"

I don't respond to either of them. I just stare towards the doorway, where the peacekeepers are slowly emerging. They each grab one of my parents and pull them out the door, my mother blowing me one last kiss.

Finally. Let's just get these Games over with already, I'm already bored of them.

**A/N **

**So, that's that! I'll try to get the next reaping up as soon as possible! Finally, I can write without interruption, so the next one should be fairly quick to update. To those who submitted these tributes, let me know if I did anything wrong, and to everyone else, well, I'd love to hear what you thought. Remember, reviews are love! J**

**Until next time, lovely readers! Thanks for keeping up with the story, it means a lot to me! 3 **


	4. D4 reaping!

**A.N Hey everyone!**

**I give you : The district 4 reaping! We officially have all our career tributes! 8 districts to go b3fore we can finally move on to training scores and interviews (hopefully soon!)**

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter and tell me what you thought!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Coral Beache POV**

"I just can't handle working with my mother anymore! I mean, she's always trying to get me to wear these stupid dresses and necklaces. Seriously, does she really think the people buying her fish really care what I'm wearing?"

I am sitting on the beach with my best friend Dory, just like any other morning. Just listening to the waves and the wind…and Dory's complaints about her mother. As much as she loves her mother Dory has always preferred working with her father, mostly because he embraces her tomboy style more. She tells me about it every morning and we always sit at this same spot on the beach. Typical morning.

Except it's not. Today is far from a typical morning. Today is Reaping day.

I'm not like other girls in my district. I don't train. The Games never really appealed much to me. I prefer to act and sing. My parents don't mind – in fact, they've always encouraged me to follow my dreams and believe in myself. Our district has less volunteers than districts 1 and 2, though.

"Why don't you just tell her how you feel? I mean, if you say it nicely I'm sure she won't be upset," I advise Dory.

She tosses her short choppy brown hair out of her eyes and looks over at me, shielding her dark eyes from the sun.

"Maybe. I don't know, I'll think about it…anyways, we should probably head over to your place. Reaping's in 45 minutes."

We both get up, brushing the sand off the back of our legs and begin walking to my house. Dory doesn't even have to get ready; she's wearing her shorts and tank top to the reaping, just like she always does. She knows better than to try and convince me to do the same. When we were twelve, that didn't go so well.

After ten minutes of walking, the house finally comes into view, grandiose and beautiful. Dory often teases me about the rich status of my family and says that if she weren't such a tomboy she'd rob my closet on a daily basis. I wouldn't even mind if she did…I have enough clothes.

I open the door to my house and call out a greeting to my family. The first person to emerge is my twin brother, Cory, leaning against the railing of the spiraled staircase.

"Hey Coral! What's up? Heard you were volunteering this year."

Typical Cory. He thinks this will upset me, since he knows I'm not one of those bloodthirsty Career girls. It doesn't faze me, though. I know exactly how to handle it.

"Haha, you are soo funny, Cory! Don't pretend like you weren't the one who was _actually _planning to volunteer," I respond with a smirk.

He grins back at me and runs up to his room, hyperactive as always. I roll my eyes and shake my head with a smile as I head up the stairs to my room, Dory in tow.

I can't help but sing my favorite song under my breath. Though she would never admit it, I know Dory loves listening to me sing.

**Riley Reel POV**

"Dude, I think I've got a big one!"

"Well, what are you waiting for! Reel her in, Reel!**"**

I roll my eyes at the bad joke, and begin vigorously reeling in my catch, silently praying it'll be bigger than my best friend Ben's. I'll never hear the end of it if it isn't.

After several seconds of struggling, and Ben mockingly cheering me on, I finally lift the fish out of the water.

Same size as Ben's. Same type of fish, too. I smirk at him.

"Looks like we've got a tie."

"Damn you, Reel! Next time I'll win!"

"Go ahead and try, Stanton."

We both share a chuckle before gathering all of our fish together, forgetting who caught which, and turn the boat around towards the shore, where I can vaguely see two girls getting up to leave the beach. Probably heading home to get ready for the reaping.

The reaping.

I think I want to volunteer this year. Yeah, I'm kinda young, but I think I'm ready. Besides, I want to make my father proud.

My father. My father, who wanted so desperately to be the mayor of District 4. My father, who failed in achieving his dream.

My father, who took his own life because of it. I was only four years old at the time, but the memory of it is still as clear as if it happened yesterday.

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts out of my mind before I could get another flashback. Those can get pretty nasty sometimes. I notice the side glance that Ben is giving me, no doubt knowing what's on my mind, but he knows better than to bring it up and turns away.

We eventually hit the dock and step out of the boat, each of us with an even number of fish in a bag.

"Well, I'm gonna head home to get ready. Meet you at the square?" Ben asks.

"Sure, I'll meet you there. See ya, Ben."

"Later, Riley."

I head over to my house in silence. My mom opens the door before I could knock. She was probably looking out the window, waiting for me to come back.

"Riley! Word on the street is you're volunteering this year…that true?"

I smile at her.

"Yup. I think this year is the big year!"

She grins at me and wraps me into a hug. I then hear her whisper in my ear, "Your father would be so proud of you."

I nod my head and decide to make a joke, like I always do when Dad is brought up.

"Of course he would. I'm just so amazing, remember?"

My mother laughs and shakes her head, rolling her eyes at me.

"Just go and get ready, would ya?"

I leave the doorway with a military salute for my mother and head up to my room, where I am faced with the difficult task of deciding what exactly it is that I want to wear to this thing.

I search through an array of differently styled shirts, pants and even suits before finally settling with a loose cotton sea green t-shirt and blue shorts. No reason to get all fancy, in my opinion. As long as you don't look like a complete slob.

I don't need a fancy outfit to prove to everyone that I can win these Games for my dad.

**Coral Beache POV**

I am tearing my closet apart trying to find something nice to wear. Everything in my closet seems too fancy, or too boring, or simply something I've already worn to past reapings. Dory, in the meantime, is reading the back summary of my favorite book which she has carelessly pulled out from my bookshelf. Which is piled with books upon books. Reading is another hobby of mine.

"Woah, this one sounds good, Coral! Can I borrow it?"

I sigh and turn away from the closet to look at Dory.

"Yes, of course, Dory! But do you mind helping me pick out an outfit for the reaping now? You're already borrowing, like, five of my books." I say with an apologetic smile.

Dory rolls her eyes at me and walks on over to stand beside me, eyes scanning the variety of clothing.

"Jesus, Coral, look at all this! You're telling me you can't come up with a simple outfit?"

"It's reaping day, Dory! I wanna look nice."

She sighs exasperatedly and shakes her head at me.

"Fine. Let me look through these. I know your style well enough by now, anyway."

She steps into the huge closet and begins looking through racks upon racks of clothes, eyes squinted in concentration as she looks each dress and shirt up and down.

Finally, she pulls something out.

"How about this?"

I examine the item of clothing in her hand carefully. It is a floral sundress that appears to be about knee length, more or less. I don't even remember buying it.

I love it. I can't believe I managed to miss it during my ten-minute outfit hunt.

"Wow, Dory! You do know my style! It's gorgeous!" I cry out in excitement.

I resist the urge to squeal, knowing that Dory will make fun of me, and hastily pull the dress on. I smooth it out, making sure it looks perfect before turning towards the full-length mirror beside my bed.

"I love it! I can't thank you enough, Dory!"

Dory smiles smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just hurry up and fix your hair or whatever. We need to be at the square in ten minutes."

I turn to the mirror and quickly twist my light brown side bangs back and brush my hair, leaving it loose to fall freely to my mid-back. As soon as I put the brush down, Dory taps me on the shoulder.

"Wear these with the dress." She says with a smirk, revealing my blue ballet flats from behind her back and handing them to me.

I smile at her gratefully before bending down to put them on.

"I may not give a shit about clothes and fashion," Dory admits, "but don't underestimate my sense of style."

**Riley Reel POV**

"Sam, come on! We can't be late for the reaping; your brother is volunteering, remember?"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!"

My mother sighs. Sam does this every year. As much as my brother enjoys training and sees my father's dying wish of having two victors as sons as important, he just doesn't have the passion for it that I have. Which is fine, I guess. He still plans to volunteer when he's somewhere between sixteen and eighteen which is what really matters.

"Sam, we're leaving!" my mother suddenly calls out.

The sentence has barely escaped and my brother flies down the stairs attempting to put his left shoe on as he hops down the stairs.

"Gosh, Mom, I was just brushing my teeth! Unless you want me to show up at the reaping reeking of morning breath?

I can't help but chuckle at this while my mother simply rolls her eyes, telling my brother to "just move it before we end up being late."

The walk to the square passes by fairly quickly and before I know it we're waiting to be checked in, Ben having joined Sam and I in line.

"So, have you made up your mind yet, Riley? You gonna volunteer, or what?" Ben asks with a malicious grin on his face, obviously expecting me to say no.

I grin right back, possibly appearing even more condescending then Ben, and reply, "Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am, Benny boy!"

Ben face curls into a frown at the odd nickname before morphing into an expression of shock and surprise upon realizing what I just said.

"No way, man. You're actually gonna do it!"

"Yup," I reply, "I'm actually gonna do it. This year is the year."

My mind suddenly floods with all the memories I just finished forcing back into my mind an hour ago. My father's failed efforts to become mayor. The bloody mess my mother and I had found in the –

"I mean, why wouldn't I volunteer? I'll school those other tributes any day!"

The joke blurts out of me unconsciously as I attempt to smother the thoughts away with my humor, just like I always do. It not only helps me, but it fools everyone. Ben's oblivious laughter beside me is proof of this.

"Next!" the voices of two Capitol women shout at once. Ben and I each head over to a booth, leaving Sam to wait for the next one.

I hold out my hand wordlessly, and the woman pricks me with an apologetic smile. I don't even flinch.

"Thank you, you're free to go. Next!"

After dropping Sam off in the fourteen section, Ben and I head over to the sixteens, joking lightheartedly the entire time until the escort begins to speak.

As soon as she opens her mouth, my entire focus is centered on that stage. And it will stay that way until I am standing on it, ready to make my dad proud.

**Coral Beache POV**

The Capitol woman who checks me in is nicer than those I've had in the past. She has a pleasant smile on her face, and apologizes when she accidentally pricks me too hard, making me gasp in shock and pain. I just smile at her to show her I'm not upset and she bids me farewell with a friendly "Good luck out there!"

Apparently Dory wasn't so lucky.

"That bitch! I was just asking her the time and she literally stabbed my finger and told me to bring a watch next time!"

I can't help but burst out laughing at the horrified look on Dory's face. She's clutching a heavily bleeding finger close to her chest, proving her story to be the truth, and I hand her a tissue from my pocket.

"Here, use this to wipe the blood off. Apply pressure. Oh, and you probably don't wanna hear this right now, but the woman who checked _me _in smiled and wished me good luck."

I grin sheepishly at her, waiting for the outburst, but she simply rolls her eyes.

"Maybe you were right all these years. I should look nicer for the reaping. I might get treated better."

I giggle at this and we wait for Cory to be done checking in before heading – correction, _running_ – over to the sixteen section, hurrying to catch up with my hyperactive twin as usual who's already getting restless.

"Come _on, _I wanna go home already. I've got other priorities, you know!"

"Cory, seriously, it won't take long. We'll be home in, like, a half hour and we won't need to come back for another year." I assure him with a chuckle.

He just mutters something about "wasting time" and "unimportant matters" and ignores me, eyes fixated on the escort who is taking her sweet time on the stage.

About a minute later, a freakishly deep, raspy voice echoes across the square, calling our attention. I cringe at the sound. I could never quite get used to that voice, even though its sounded like that for as long as I can remember.

"Let us begin," she says dramatically.

My brother snorts beside me, and I elbow him. All we need is for the escort to yell at us for laughing at her like she did to those thirteen-year-old boys last year. One of them ended up in tears amongst her rage.

The escort then makes her way to the female ball, without even uttering the classic "Ladies first!" line, and pulls out a slip hastily, wasting no time at all. I immediately begin scanning the crowd around me, wondering who will volunteer for the poor unfortunate soul who is reaped. Although, I didn't hear any rumors at all this year…

"Coral Beache!"

Crap. That's terrifying. I frantically look around again, hoping whoever was planning to volunteer is simply distracted, or trying to scare me, but its been too much time. I need to go.

I look at Cory and Dory beside me, both on the verge of tears. My parents in the crowd, in similar states.

_Alright, Coral. Just do what you do best, _I think to myself, _Act. You're in a movie, a terrible movie about a girl who is reaped for the Games and survives! Get in character now._

I take a deep breath and start walking to the stage, a huge smile plastered on my face. I raise my chin, trying to look confident, and wink at a nearby camera that is following me as I walk.

The walk to the stage is quick, but I keep the act going, waving to the crowd with that ridiculous smile on my face.

The escort walks on over to the male ball without a glance in my direction, plunging one long-nailed hand deep to the very bottom of the bowl and pulling out a slip. She is just opening her mouth to say the name when –

"I volunteer!"

**Riley Reel POV**

I don't even give the escort a chance to read the name. I need to be first. There is no other option.

I make my way over to the stage, ignoring the glares of the eighteen-year-old who will never get to volunteer now because of me, and say my name into the microphone before she asks me to.

"I'm Riley Reel, and I am a Hunger Games addict!"

Lame, I know. But the memories were resurfacing and I couldn't risk having a breakdown, not here, not now. I'd rather look like a guy who makes lame jokes than a weakling. Besides, everyone's laughing, even the escort. She takes the mic back and says in her monstrous voice, "Good thing you're volunteering for them then. Show him some love, everyone!"

The crowd breaks into somewhat awkward applause and I spot Ben and Sam each laughing hysterically in their respective sections, while my mother is crying on the outskirts of the square. I've done well. I've made her proud.

Now, it's time to make my dad proud.

The girl beside me who was reaped is smiling widely, clapping with the others. It's clearly fake, but I must admit she's doing a good job at making it seem real. I can't help but think that she's pretty, with her brown hair and sea green eyes. She grins up at me as she shakes my hand and that is the last I see of her before I'm whisked away to the tribute room by the peacekeepers.

I'm immediately greeted by my mother and Sam. My mother is an absolute wreck. She wraps her arms around me and doesn't let go for a full minute, telling me over and over how proud she is of me and how proud dad must be too. When she finally lets go, slipping a string of fish scales into my handwhich used to belong to my father, Sam approaches me.

"So. You're obviously gonna win, so I thought we'd make a little deal." he proposes with a wicked grin on his face.

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. "And that is?"

"I get half your money!"

"What?! No! Why should you? You're volunteering in, like, two years anyway!"

"Yes, and then you'll get half of mine to make up for it. Please?" Sam pleads, all with that stupid grin on his face.

I smile back at him deviously. "Alright, Sam. We have a deal."

"Great! Now please win. Serously, I'll be heartbroken."

He says this casually, but I can see the real emotion underneath. I pat him on the shoulder.

"Don't worrt, I'll be home before you know it."

The peacekeepers come to get them then, leaving Ben in their place. The room is silent for a while before Ben speaks.

"So, uh, you planning on coming home or what?"

"Nope. Hate to break it to you, but this was all a suicide mission. Sorry you had to find out this way,"

Ben laughs for a second, but it's cut short. His face falls almost instantly.

"Seriously, though, please come back. Don't be one of those stupid Careers who thinks they've got it all in the bag. Watch your back, okay?"

I'm taken completely aback by this. Ben usually isn't this serious about anything. Even at my dad's funeral he managed to make me laugh a few times. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry about me. I'll come back. I have a promise to keep."

Ben nods, knowing exactly what I'm talking about.

"Your dad is probably dancing in his grave right now. I'm sure he'd be really proud, Riley."

My eyes mist over for about half a second before I force them back, focusing on the less serious thing Ben started with.

"Dancing in his grave? Really?"

"Hey, I don't know, man. I just wanted to say your dad is proud of you!" he exclaims, the usual cheeriness back in his face.

I can hear the peacekeeper's footsteps approaching.

"See you, man."

"I better see you, or I'll spit on your grave, you know that right?" Ben responds.

I chuckle and nod my head, waving good bye to him as he leaves with the peacekeepers.

I lift my gaze to the ceiling, finally allowing the memories to fully make their way into my mind.

"I'll make you proud, dad. I promise."

**Coral Beache POV**

"You'll do fine, Coral. Just stay with the Careers, and you'll be fine."

I'm still under my movie impression, taking everything in with a smile, although my act is much weaker then it was before. My eyes are shiny and red, and my face is white as a sheet. I'll change that once the cameras come back, though.

My mother continues to reassure me while my father occasionally chimes in too.

"Besides, you're such a pretty girl. You can trick boys into thinking you're gonna kiss them and then shove a knife into his back like in those movies."

Cory bursts out laughing at my father's joke, while my mother rolls her sea green eyes, identical to mine. Almost everything about her is identical to me, actually. My father is the oddball, with his blond hair and blue eyes.

"Seriously, Coral, don't worry about a thing. I'll be sending you twin telepathy and protect you." Cory assures me.

I giggle and thank him. "Hey Cory, suddenly you don't have anything better to do, eh?'"

He makes a mockingly horrified face, "Of course not, Coral! Not at a time like this!"

He pauses then, listening. The peacekeepers.

"Damn it. Listen, Coral, be safe."

"We're all rooting for you, Coral!"

We group hug for a while until the peacekeepers force my family out of the room, practically having to pry my brother's claws off of me to do so.

I'm not alone for very long before Dory shows up, her eyes red-rimmed but apart from that looking decent.

"Coral. You need to come back. Seriousy, I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my best friend. Come home safe, alright?"

I nod my head, the smile slowly melting off my face. However, I refuse to cry. I canf afford to cry anymore, the cameras will be here in a minute. The movie I'm starring in isn't a tragedy. It's an adventure movie.

"I promise, Dory."

Silence comes over the room, then. Suddenly, Dory reaches into the pocket of her shorts.

"I've never told this to anyone before but –"

She pulls a small blue necklace out of her pocket.

"I keep this in my pocket at every reaping. For good luck."

My grin returns at the thought of Dory – tough, tomboyish Dory – carrying a lucky necklace in her pocket.

"Aww, that's so cute –"

"Tell anyone, and I'll gladly beat you with a stick." Dory reprimands sternly.

I raise my hands innocently and she places the necklace around my neck gently.

"It has obviously been helping me for the past five reapings. And now I want it to help you in the Games."

My eyes begin to water again. Dory has never been so open about her feelings with me before, and this act of caring gets me right in the heart. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I throw my arms around Dory's neck, crying into her shoulder.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

She rubs my back somewhat awkwardly, but it's comforting none the less.

"Hey, it matches your outfit anyway, right?"

She leaves the room several minutes later, and I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand. I fiddle with Dory's lucky necklace and think of all the advice my family gave me. I swear to them in my minf that I won't let them down. I'll come home.

I'll stick to the script and win those Games. I will _not _turn this action movie into a tragedy.

**A/N **

**Well, there you have it! I know this took long, but I'll just admit it; I'm a slow writer. I had excuses for the other slow updates, but not this one. I'm just a perfectionist with my writing. Although, I will really try to be quicker because I want to start the next section of this story after the reapings as soon as possible! This story is nowhere near abandoned!**

**Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter! I didn't get many reviews last chapter (not like I deserved any after my lateness), so I would appreciate it if people gave me their thoughts just to know if anyone has stuck with me after all this time. Reviews are love, people!**

**See you soon (hopefully!) xoxo**


	5. district 5 reaping

**A/N Hey everyone!**

**So, we are officially done with Career tributes and have moved on to the rest of this year's tributes! Hope you've liked everyone so far. Anyways, not much else to say, so enjoy the chapter and don't forget to leave a review on your way out! **

**Paxton "Connor" Stoll POV**

I wake up to the sound of coughing coming from the bed beside my own. I roll over, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes with a barely-concealed yawn before finally opening them to face my twin brother, Connor. I can see my fatigue mirrored on his face, identical to mine, although he looks much worse then I feel. Face white as a sheet, and eyes bloodshot and shining. Not to mention he's probably on the verge of coughing up his entire stomach if he continues at it. He looks over at me and, realizing I'm awake, perks up slightly, trying to mask his weakness.

"Hey, Pax," he whispers hoarsely.

Before I can say anything else, his face goes impossibly paler and within seconds he is doubled over the side of the bed puking up all of last night's dinner.

Oh, God.

I cringe, turning away from my brother as he continues to vomit all over his side of our not-so-big bedroom. I wait until he quiets down before finally getting up to help. I jog over to the kitchen to grab a rag and dampen it in the sink before heading back to my room to care for my brother.

He is attacking me with scratchy, hoarse apologies the second I enter the room.

"God, Pax, I'm so sorry, I don't know what's with me this morning! I've been awake since 4 just feeling like crap but I didn't want to wake you…"

I can't help but chuckle at him. "Don't worry about it, bro. As long as you don't get any of last night's dinner onto my beautiful face, we're cool."

He laughs weakly before rolling his eyes playfully at me. "Yeah, sure. But I did manage to get some on my _more _beautiful face, which is much more important right now."

Yeah, even identical twins argue about who's better-looking. I guess it's a universal rule of siblings or something. I grin at his words with a shake of my head before dabbing at the areas around his mouth with the rag, wiping all the excess vomit away.

"There. Now that you're all cleaned up, your face is _almost _as attractive as mine."

"You wish."

I leave the room once again to rinse off the rag before tackling the floor, which is a lot worse than his face. The stench is starting to fill the room due to its small size and it takes all the strength I have not to gag. I have the floor clean within minutes, though, and after tossing the rag into the sink to be washed later, I turn back to Connor who's looking miserable in his bed.

"Geeze, Connor, it's just a little puking. You'll live." I joke, trying to put a smile on his face.

His facial expression doesn't change, and he turns to me with panic-stricken eyes.

"Paxton, have you forgotten what day it is?"

What is he on about? Today is Sunday, just a regular Sunday for…oh, wait. It _isn't _just a regular Sunday. Today's Reaping Day.

And my brother won't be able to make it.

For a split second, I'm just as panicked as my brother. After all, missing the reaping holds severe penalties. But then I realize something. My brother has nothing to be worried about.

"Look, Connor, it'll be fine. You won't be reaped. I mean, what are the chances, right? Out of hundreds of boys, what are the odds you'll be reaped? Unless they decide to put your name in the girl's box as well since you're such a girly girl."

He rolls his eyes, still appearing unconvinced, although he does crack the tiniest of smiles.

"You won't be reaped, so it's okay if you don't show."

Connor nods his head slowly, approving of everything I'm saying. His face then curls back into a frown, just seconds later.

"But what about sign-in? When they see I haven't been checked off…"

"Got that covered. Have you forgotten that we're _identical twins? _All I need to do is check in under my name and then sneak back into the line and check in again under yours. No big deal. It'll be just like any other one of our usual pranks! I'm actually surprised we never tried this in the past."

Connor lifts his gaze to the ceiling, thinking the idea over. He then looks back at me, grinning from ear to ear.

"I hate to admit this, but…you are brilliant."

I grin back at him and attempt to flip my hair like a sassy girl.

"I know."

**Savannah Moral POV**

"OW!"

I immediately turn to glare at my friend Cida, shushing her harshly.

"Jesus, Cida! Do you wanna get caught?"

She glares back, completely unintimidated by my scolding.

"Well, it's not _my _fault Joc doesn't know how to walk! He stepped on my heel!"

Joc then steps in to defend himself, "Well, maybe if you walked a little faster-"

"Oh my god, who _cares? _Just shut the hell up and get a move on already, we don't have all day!" Penha intervenes impatiently.

It's almost like a typical morning at the community home. Almost. Of course, the reaping is hanging over all of our heads like a black cloud, but that doesn't stop us. Us being myself and my five best friends: Joc, the klutz; Rosario, the brainiac; Cida, the drama-queen, Penha, the brutally honest; and Bianca, the peacemaker.

Me? Well, I'm just me. The rebellious girl who can't ever seem to follow the rules. The girl who was mysteriously dropped off into the community home as a newborn, without any trace of birth parents at all. Savannah Moral isn't even my real name; I made it. Well, the last name at least. My birth name is completely unknown.

Anyway, my friends and I are spending the beginning of Reaping Day the same way we'd spend any other morning – stirring up trouble. This time in the form of a kitchen raid, since this damn community home insists on feeding us no more than one meal a day. It is not the first time we do this, and we've been caught and punished countless times, but it's worth the amazing feeling of actually having food in you.

Which hopefully we'll all get to feel today. If Cida and Joc can stop arguing so loudly, that is.

"Guys, come on, Penha's right we really need to hurry! The wake-up bell is gonna ring soon and I doubt anyone will believe we were just headed to the bathroom. I mean, it's _us. _And we're all together." Bianca insists.

We all nod in agreement, Joc and Cida glowering at each other one last time before continuing on towards the kitchen. We tiptoe down the long hallways of the community home in complete silence, our breathing the only source of sound. Finally, after several agonizingly long minutes, the kitchen comes into view. Entirely empty of people, but absolutely filled to the brim with food.

Rosario speaks up first, whispering the game-plan as he always does.

"Alright. Cida, Bianca and Jo – no, bad idea – Cida, Bianca and I will go into the kitchen and grab whatever we can. Savannah, you need to stand guard outside the kitchen and make sure to look over at the back door as well. Penha, you're gonna stay at the other end of the hall and warn Savannah immediately of any threats so that she can then warn us. Joc, just be on general alert and feel free to just come into the kitchen if you sense anything at all. Good with that?"

We all nod in agreement and get into position: Penha at the other end, me just at the entrance of the kitchen, and Joc simply roaming up and down the hall. Cida, Bianca and Rosario immediately sprint into the kitchen, Rosario whispering instructions on who will take which cupboard. I watch as Cida grabs three loaves of bread, shoving them into her shirt before moving on to the fruit in the fruit bowl. Bianca heads for the pantry, plucking a box of crackers and about a dozen granola bars from the cupboard and tucking them under her arms. Rosario tackles the fridge, pulling out an entire block of cheese and some yogurt and water bottles. They seem to be doing well until a panicked Penha rushes over.

"Sav! She's coming! The Headmaster is coming, god dammit!"

I whip my head around to face the end of the hall, where Joc is frantically trying to convince the Headmaster (who, quite frankly, is kind of a bitch) that he was only headed to the bathroom. She doesn't appear very convinced.

I dash into the kitchen, making all three of our raiders jump and turn toward me guiltily before relaxing at the sight of me.

"Don't get too comfortable guys, the Headmaster is here! We need to get the hell out of here and fast!"

"Yes, you do," an unfamiliar voice agrees.

I turn to glare at the Headmaster. I hate her. Actually, hate is a huge understatement. I _loath _her.

"We were just taking turns going into the bathroom. We're done now, we were just panicking because we were afraid you'd be mad." I lie smoothly.

The Headmaster smirks at me. She doesn't say anything, although after several seconds of silence she abruptly starts to laugh loudly and sharp, causing Bianca and Cida to jump three feet in the air.

"As amazing as your lying skills are, Ms. Moral, you've done it so many times – and often about the same exact thing – that I simply cannot believe you.."

The Headmaster continues to lecture me about my "improper behavior", no longer paying any attention to anyone else in the room.

Which gives me an idea.

I turn towards Cida, Bianca and Rosario, their clothes practically bursting with hidden food, and give them a classic signal. _Get the hell out of here, I'll get myself out of this. _

Rosario seems to get what I'm saying, and whispers into the ears of the two girls beside him. They nod and before I know it, they've sprinted from the room, pulling Penha and Joc with them.

But the Headmaster notices.

"What! Ms. Fenly, Ms. Tanner, Ms. Mills, Mr. Ryder and Mr. Monty, get back over here this instant!"

I take that as my cue and run from the room, relishing in the fact that despite being caught, we managed to get the food. The Headmaster appears to have forgotten about catching us and has turned her attention to the kitchen, attempting to figure out what was taken.

The wake-up bell rings, a shrill and unpleasant tone, and I cover my ears as I run. I don't slow down until I've reached the girl's room for 16-18 year olds, where my friends are all waiting in front of the door.

"Holy shit, that was awesome!"

"Did the Headmaster see us?"

"_Crackers?! _I love you, Bianca…"

I decide now would be the perfect time to break the news of the Headmaster's knowledge.

"She knows, guys. She saw you all. We need to hide the food. I'd suggest the floorboards in the guy's room, the loose one near Ross's bed. Put it under there, they won't expect a thing."

The boys nod and walk away, Cida and Bianca in tow with their share of the food. Penha turns to me with a smirk.

"Well, this was an eventful way to begin Reaping Day, wasn't it?"

**Paxton "Connor" Stoll POV**

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Connor moans from his bed, still clearly worried about his little no-show act at the reaping.

I sigh in exasperation and turn away from our tiny closet to look him right in the eye.

"Yes, Connor, you'll be fine. Two poor souls will get reaped just like every other year, and then I'll go get us some money and food the same way we always do."

Connor nods his head half-heartedly before laying his head back down onto his pillow.

I know what you're thinking. You think that when I say getting money and food, that I'll be headed over to some black market or something, like that Hob place in District 12 the Capitol burned down during the Mockingjay rebellion all those years ago. But that's really not the case. We don't have anything like that in District 5 cause most people simply don't need it. But my family does. We've needed it desperately since my father died.

My father.

He was an amazing person, who taught Connor and I everything we needed to know on how to get food and money.

He taught us how to pickpocket and steal. But not for robbery purposes or to be a bad person. Just because he had to. _We _had to. It was the only way for us to get food, and still is. Connor and I often roam the streets, trying to get our hands on whatever we can. Reaping day has always been a traditional day to go all out with our "shopping" even before we were eligible to be reaped. Our father helped us for several years.

Until his death, that is. And I don't mean a peaceful, "dying in your sleep" kind of death. I mean he was shot. By peacekeepers. Right in front of his two then-six-year-old sons. It was hard to deal with – I don't even remember anything about that day, I've blocked it out so many times – but we survived. All of us. Connor and I have become inseparable and have since followed in my father's footsteps, getting whatever food and money we can for our mother. I'll have to work alone today after the reaping, but I can handle it. It wouldn't be the first time.

I turn back towards the closet and stare at the limited choices of reaping outfits for several seconds. I only have about a handful of possible outfits in there, but I still need to look good. Not to mention I'm gonna have to bring a second shirt if I wanna convince the Capitol resident at check-in that I'm not the person she just saw ten minutes ago.

Eventually I find myself torn between three shirts and two pairs of pants. I look over at Connor, whose eyes are slowly starting to close after being up half the night, for his opinion.

"Hey, Connor, sorry before you fall asleep can you just give me your opinion?"

He nods his head, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Last time I checked, you need to have your eyes open to be able to see, bro." I chuckle.

Connor smiles amusedly before opening his eyes and scanning the shirts I'm holding up carefully. Three shirts, all equally wrinkled; one a muddy gray, another red, and another bright blue. Two pairs of pants; basically jeans and a pair of frayed trousers.

"For the shirts, I say bring the grey and red. That blue is just not you, man." He says tiredly, grinning at the thought of me in blue, "And as for the pants, bring the trousers. I know neither of us give a damn about the reaping, but jeans might be a bit _too _casual."

I put the rejected blue shirt and jeans back in the closet without a second glance.

"Why, thank you for the insight, Connor "Passion for Fashion" Stoll!"

He doesn't respond, and when I look over at him I see he has finally fallen asleep. I try to keep as quiet as possible while tiptoeing out of the room and slowly shut the door behind me.

**Savannah Moral POV**

Once all of the food has finally been hidden safely under the floor Cida, Bianca, Penha and I head back to our room to start getting ready for the dreaded reaping. Ugh. We don't even have time to enjoy the food we just barely managed to grab? But, oh well. The reaping only lasts about a half hour anyway, and most of that time is spent at check-in.

I walk on over to my bed, where a see a meager little pile of clothing. My options for the reaping outfit.

You see, at the community home, we don't get any clothing of our own. Every morning, they distribute items of clothing at random by placing a small pile on your bed. You can choose to wear whatever you want out of your pile. Most people just end up trading each other and mismatching to create whatever outfit they want, but I don't see the point. As long as you've got clothes on your back, right?

Laid out in front of me are a blue V-neck top, a light purple blouse, and an ugly knee-length yellow dress that I immediately toss aside. To complement the tops, I am given the choice of a short white skirt or a longer black one. After thinking it over for several seconds, I finally decide on the blue shirt and white skirt. I notice there have also been shoes laid out at the foot of the bed but I decide to do my hair and make-up first.

I put my slippers on and leave the room, heading for the bathroom, where the mirror will most likely be packed with girls all frantically trying to make themselves look absolutely perfect. Just like every other year. Sigh.

I brace myself as I approach the bathroom, already hearing the sound of about thirty different female voices coming from behind the door. I fling it open without hesitation, fully exposing myself to the chaos that lies within. I can't even see the mirror, just an array of heads with a variety of different hair colors blocking the view. I almost immediately spot Bianca, struggling to get herself out of the corner that the other girls have forced her into. At the sight of this, I immediately push my way through the crowd towards Bianca to rescue her. She gives me a relieved smile as we painstakingly make our way out of the bathroom.

"Holy shit, I wanted to kill myself in there!" she exclaims.

"So did I, and I was only in there for about 5 minutes. Come, we're going into the men's room."

Bianca nods her head without hesitation, and we cross the hallway over to the boy's bathroom. It's something I've been doing since I was 12, but every year I always try the girl's room just in case with no luck.

Once in the eerily silent bathroom, I finally get a good look at what Bianca's wearing. A simple light blue dress. It looks good on her. Compliments her brown hair nicely. I wonder if it was offered to her or if she traded someone for it. Probably the latter; it's too conveniently her style.

Without a second glance at her, I turn to look at my own reflection in the mirror. My raven-black hair, usually pin-straight, is like a birds nest on my head from the night, my skin unusually flushed from the hassle in the girl's bathroom a few minutes ago. I resist the urge to cringe as I grab a hairbrush and begin to comb out my hair, straightening it out to bring it back to its usual texture. I can see Bianca doing the same beside me, her eyes narrowed with comically intense concentration. When my hair is to my liking, I move on to makeup. I don't put much; just enough to make my blue eyes "pop" as Cida once put it. Just as I'm finishing up, Bianca's voice makes me jump.

"Hey, Sav, you done beautifying yourself? We need to leave in, like, five minutes."

I whirl around to see that Bianca is already prepared for the reaping, and she has almost twice as much makeup as me. Even her hair looks like it should have taken two hours to prepare! It shouldn't surprise me considering Bianca has always been the first one ready, but it still does. Every single year.

"I'm ready, Bia, I just need to pick out my shoes. Do me a favor and go see if the others are all ready?"

She nods and leaves the room, just as a little boy I recognize from the thirteen-year-old group walks in. His eyes widen in horror at the sight of us.

"Y-you-you shouldn't be here! This is for guys!"

Bianca immediately bursts out laughing, but I'm not amused. Maybe I should shove him into the chaos of the girl's room. I'm sure he'll understand why we're here after that.

"Move it, kid, we need to get ready. The girl's bathroom is like a damn jungle! Go in there, and take a look if you want." I say with a sickly sweet grin.

His face pales – because of me or the image I just gave him, I'm not so sure – and he runs over to the nearest urinal, staring us down until we finally leave him in privacy.

Bianca shakes her head at me, still giggling.

"Jesus, Savannah, do you have to terrify the little kids like that?"

"Yes. They need to learn that life isn't all sunshine and lollipops." I reply with a grin.

Without any further conversation, we part ways; me to the room to find my shoes, and Bianca to the boys room to see if Rosario and Joc are ready.

I look at the three pairs of shoes near the bed. A pair of sandals, one of sparkly, over-done high heels, and a pair of simple black pumps. I quickly decide on the sandals before finally leaving the room, where everyone but Cida is waiting.

"Where's Cida?" I ask, "I didn't see her in the room…"

"Oh, she's in there alright. Taking her sweet-ass time as usual.." Penha answers hotly.

She then pokes her head into the doorway of the room with a sharp "Cida, hurry the hell up!" startling at least three girls, none of which are Cida.

After several seconds, Cida finally emerges from the room, all dolled up as usual. Her style is kind of like Bianca's except she actually takes the amount of time you'd expect. As you can see.

"God, I was ready! I just couldn't decide on my shoes!" Cida pouts, triggering a major eye-roll on the part of Penha.

I look down at Cida's shoes. Bright red and sparkly high heels, the same color as her top. Of course. They practically have "Cida" written all over them.

"Alright, let's _go. _We're gonna be late!" Rosario whines, shooing us all down the stairs and out the door of the community home.

_Let's just get this over with, _I think to myself, _I just want my food, already._

**Paxton "Connor" Stoll POV**

I wave good-bye to my mother as I make my way towards the long line of kids waiting to be checked in. It feels weird to be alone; normally by this point Connor and I are laughing at the Capitol people's style together. This time, I don't even give them a second glance; I'm too busy reminding myself of which twin I'm to play.

_Paxton. You're Paxton right now. Paxton Stoll. You've got the same blood as Connor, they won't suspect a thing…_

I feel myself getting more and more anxious as the line moves forward, each inch I advance bringing on a new wave of shivers and fear. What if I get the same person the second time? What if she recognizes me? It's a strange, foreign feeling to me…I haven't felt nervous or afraid since my first pickpocketing trip without Dad, and that was a good nine years ago. I've long since forgotten how unpleasant it is.

Eventually, there's only one person left in front of me, a tiny twelve year old with a pink ribbon in her hair. She doesn't look at all afraid, and so I manage to cope with the stressful situation by picturing Connor by my side, teasing me over the fact that this little girl is more fearless than I am. Hey, it's realistic!

"Next!"

The little girl walks over to the available booth and holds out her hand before the attendant can tell her to, whispering a name which I don't hear. She must have an older sibling who taught her how the reaping works; usually twelve year olds are hopelessly confused, much to the Capitol people's irritation. I know Connor and I both were.

I almost miss the call of "Next!" that is directed my way, too busy watching the little girl getting her finger pricked by the Capitol attendant.

I take a deep breath before hastily making my way over to the booth. The woman smiles with an excited "Happy Hunger Games!" before grabbing my wrist and pricking my finger, not bothering to tell me what to do.

"Name, please."

"Paxton Stoll."

She nods her head, checking me off. She then waves her hand, wordlessly dismissing me.

"Next!"

I comtinue on into the square, making it seem like I'm headed to the 15 section like anyone else before making a quick detour to go change. I keep a close eye out for the peacekeepers and before I know it, I'm back in the check-in line, way at the back in my new stealing technique: don't draw any attention to yourself.

The line is even longer now, seeing as how most people show up at the last possible second. The length of the line isn't the only thing that's increased..my nerves are at their highest peak. I feel cold, all the way down to my bones and blood. I'm shaking like a leaf, and I can feel the large group of friends behind me staring. One of them has bright red heels that momentarily distract me.

_It's okay, Paxton, relax. They probably just think you're nervous about the Reaping. No, wait, you are NOT Paxton, you're Connor now. Connor Stoll. Your new name is Connor Stoll for the next half hour.._

I rehearse in my head as the line inches forward, getting used to the feel of introducing myself as Connor; the last thing I need is for her to ask me my name and accidentally blurt out my real name. _You are Connor._

"Next!"

I look up to see how far along the line is only to see that the row of booths is the only thing in front of me. How did the line go that fast?!

I march up to the available booth with my head high, face neutral. _It's just a prank. You're a natural at those. Prank her like you would prank anyone else._

This Capitol woman isn't as friendly as the last.

"Wrist, now."

Hello to you too, lady. I hold out my wrist and without any warning she stabs the needle into my finger so hard I actually flinch, something I haven't done since my first ever reaping three years ago. She smirks a little at the sight of my pain. Bitch.

"Name, now. I haven't got all day!" she snaps impatiently.

I blurt the name out so fast it actually takes her by surprise. I freeze in place, my very blood going cold. Which name did I say? I watch anxiously as she flips through her list, finally checking off the name. Connor Stoll. Guess all that mental rehearsing was worth it. I give a discreet sigh of relief. We're signed in. Both of us. The hardest part of today is done.

Now all that's left to do is not get reaped. Easy. I've already done it three times.

"You can go, now. Next!"

I walk away from the booth in pure relief, along with the usual sense of bliss that comes after another successful prank, and head over to the fifteen section for real this time.

My sole thought the entire time waiting for the escort to begin is that I just can't _wait _to rub my success in Connor's sick, fever-flushed face when I get home.

**Savannah Moral POV**

The kid in front of us in the check-in line is an absolute nervous wreck. I recognize him from school. Doesn't he have a twin? It seems odd not seeing them together but what do I know, right?

Joc and Cida still haven't made up, apparently, because they've been arguing the entire walk here and still haven't stopped.

"God, Cida, you're such a drama queen!"

"Well, you know, maybe if you weren't such an _asshole _all the time-"

"I'm not an asshole!"

"Yes, you _are!"_

Penha looks like she's about to lose it next to me, while Bianca and Rosario are attempting to have a conversation of their own to tune it out.

The argument is getting more heated. People are staring. I think it's time to intervene.

"Guys!"

I hear another voice, mingled in with mine, yelling the same word. Penha. She continues, though.

"Can you shut up for just _two seconds, _please?!"

"Seriously," I chime in, "we're at the reaping can you at least _try_ not to make our district look bad? I love you guys, but really."

Joc nods his head solemnly while Cida simply rolls her eyes and stalks ahead of us in line, practically sticking herself to the slightly less nervous-looking twin in front of us.

I turn to Joc, who's looking a little crestfallen, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about her, Joc. She's always like this, remember?"

He nods, lowering his gaze to the floor. I must admit, his sadness is pretty out of character. Usually he takes things like this with a grain of salt, not letting it get to him. Maybe it's just last-reaping stress. The fear of being reaped when you were so close to freedom.

I decide to just let it slide, and look up to see that the twin and Cida have both reached a booth and are being checked in. Joc and I are next in line, side-by-side. I notice two people leave their booth at the same time, one of them being the little thirteen-year-old boy I scared the shit out of this morning. Ha.

"Next!"

The two attendants shout at once and so Joc and I each take a booth. The Captiol woman looks young, maybe only a few years older than me.

"Your hand and name, please?"

Wow. Usually by this point they're all bitter and snappy. The only other time a nice person checked me in was on my third reaping when I was fourteen, an even then she was only nice cause she smiled a little.

I reach out my hand with a quiet little "Savannah Moral", and she pricks me as gently as one could possibly prick a person's finger. She then pulls out her list, checking me off swiftly.

"There you are. Moral, Savannah. Pretty name. Happy Hunger Games!"

I almost glare at that last part, but something in her face stops me. The tiniest hint of regret, of sorrow, of _pity. _Almost as if she only said it cause it's expected of her.

I leave her with a simple smile, hiding the fact that I've caught her silent rebellion.

Once we've all been checked in, it becomes apparent that I got the best attendant.

"She didn't even look at me!" Cida whines.

"Neither did mine." Rosario.

"Eh, mine was okay.." Bianca.

"The bitch stabbed me! Literally _stabbed _me, and she gave me so much attitude! I should have taken that needle and stabbed _her, _see how she likes it.." Penha, of course.

"Well, mine smiled and wished me a Happy Hunger Games, but that's pretty much it.." Joc.

They all turn to me expectedly. I usually have good stories.

"Mine was okay. Kind of ignored me, really."

I'm not entirely sure what made me lie, but it felt right. Then again, lying is what always feels right with me.

We head over to the eighteen section then, way at the end, and just wait. Everyone in our section, and even most of those in the seventeens and sixteens, seems so bored compared to the trembling, terrified and slightly intrigued kids in the other sections. We've seen it all before. We just want to go home, already. Especially Penha.

"Holy freaking _shit, _can we just get on with it?! Just pick two poor bastards and let us go on our way, dammit!"

There are a few chuckles from the other eighteen-year-olds standing around us, mingled in with some sighs. One kid even goes as far as to yell out, "Get over it, seriously!" We all know how Penha is. Whether or not to like her as she is – that's based off of personal opinion, of course.

The escort's voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

"Attention, good people of District 5! Welcome to this year's annual Hunger Games Reaping! I'm sure you're all very excited!"

The square is completely silent. Of course. No one is excited at all, Mr. Escort. We're pretty much all either terrified, or just want to go home. Someone coughs, breaking the silence in a manner even more awkward then the silence itself.

"Well, then. Ladies first, I guess!"

The flamboyant escort makes his way to the reaping ball, taking torturously slow steps.

_This is it. Last reaping. Last time. Then next year, and all the years after that you can just stand with the adults and Cida and Joc and Rosario and Penha and Bianca and just laugh at the escort and all of the other kids who still have to endure the reaping and-_

"Savannah Moral!"

I almost miss the name, too busy fantasizing about all the future stress-free reapings that I haven't lived through since I was eleven.

Now I know my reapings will never be stress-free again. If I even get another one.

I look around me, taking in the sorrowed and slightly surprised faces around me. I can't show how shocked I am right now. I just can't.

I slowly step out of my section and begin walking towards the stage, head held high. I don't shake. I don't show any fear. And I most _certainly _do not cry. Not even a single tear.

I mount the steps steadily and take my place beside the escort, staring out at the vast crowd. I spot my friends.

Cida and Bianca are both crying; Cida's sobs in particular are echoing throughout the square. Penha has a hand on each of their shoulders, her gaze cold and fuming with hidden rage. Joc and Rosario simply look devastated. At a loss for words. Heartbroken.

And then I spot the Headmaster of the community home staring right into my eyes with the widest, most triumphant smile I've ever seen anyone wear.

I look back at my five best friends, all grief-stricken and sorrowful, the image of the Headmaster's beastly smile burned into my brain.

It is those two images combined that cause something inside me to snap.

I need to come back. I need to get back to my friends, and most of all…

I need to make the Headmaster's life an absolute living hell when I get back.

**Paxton Connor Stoll POV**

I watch as an eighteen year old girl with blue eyes and freckled skin gets called up to the stage. I must admit her composure impresses me. She doesn't seem afraid at all, although deep down she must be. She stands next to the escort calmly, staring out into the crowd with an intense look on her face that almost makes me shiver. Even the escort seems slightly intimidated by her.

"Well, look at this one! She is just glowing with confidence! Remind me of your name." he says, despite the slip of paper still being in his hand.

The girl looks back at the crowd, eyes skimming down the square in a way that almost makes it seem like she's staring each one of us in the eye.

"Savannah Moral."

"Wonderful! Congratulations, Savannah!"

Yeah, congrats. You are now on your way to a fight to the death in paradise! Living the dream.

Before the girl, Savannah, can react, the escort has already made his way to the boy's ball and is practically skipping back to the microphone.

_Alright, this is it. Connor's waiting at home, you did it! You just pulled the greatest prank of your entire existence and in five minutes you'll have food and money to bring home to Connor and Mom. _

The escort then unfolds the slip and shouts the name loud and clear into the mic.

"Connor Stoll!"

I freeze in place, for once in my life taken by complete surprise. He said Connor. Connor Stoll. The name of my twin brother, sick in bed at home.

People are staring at me in confusion, no doubt wondering where my twin is and which one I am.

_Crap! What to do, what to do… think, Paxton, think!_

Before I even realize what I'm about to do, I find myself leaving the fifteen section and swiftly making my way onto the stage in place of my brother. Switching roles once again. Although this time, it might be permanent.

"Excellent! Two very promising tributes indeed! And your name is?"

I cast my gaze downwards, reading the words scrawled in black ink on the slip in the escort's hand. _Connor Stoll – 15. _

"P-Connor. Connor Stoll."

"Lovely! Lovely, indeed! Now shake hands, you two! Everybody give 'em a round of applause."

I turn towards Savannah, who's actually tall enough to be on eye level with me, and hold out my hand. She grabs it, giving it a firm shake before releasing, her gaze intense although not cruel. Pensive.

Before we can say anything to each other, the peacekeepers are whisking us away into our separate rooms.

I sit on the luxurious couch with my head in my hands. This is all just too much. Connor will have to work alone, now. My mother is surely devastated.

And me? Well, who knows what will become of me?

I jump at the sound of the door opening, revealing my mother. My mother, with her tear-streaked face and frail composure. She looks absolutely broken.

"Mom, don't worry about it. Connor will take care of everything while I'm gone. You'll both be okay."

She gives me a harsh gaze.

"You know that's not at all what I'm worried about, Paxton."

I stare at her, my mind completely blank on what to say to her. Of course I know the real reason she's worried. I just can't bring myself to acknowledge it.

My mother, however, seems set on doing just that.

"I know Connor and I will be fine, Paxton, but what about you? Will you be fine? Will you come home, completely unscathed, not just physically, but mentally as well?"

Her eyes fill impossibly with more tears, which she tries to blink away but fails, only making them fall instead.

"Paxton, please. Please, whatever happens, just try –" she chokes for a second, "just try to come back to us. "

It's her voice; her wavering, broken voice that almost makes me lose it. Almost. But unlike my mother, I manage to hold the tears back.

"I promise, Mom." I reply, my voice no louder than a hoarse, choked whisper.

And just like that we're in each other's arms, my mother a blubbering, sobbing mess while I comfort her. By now my tears are long gone. Crying won't help anyone here.

Eventually my mother is forced to leave, and I'm left alone with my own thoughts. Does Connor know that the unthinkable happened? The very thing he was so worried about this morning?

I reach down to remove my necklace, a roughly-woven thing made of rope that belonged to my father. Connor and I have taken turns wearing it ever since the day Dad died, after we'd managed to sneak it away from his body using the very tricks he gave us. Today was supposed to be Connor's day. He gave to me. Thinking it would being me luck.

Clearly, he was the one who needed the luck all along. After all, it was his name that was pulled out of the reaping ball, not mine.

_I can do this, _I think to myself, _I'm sly, I'm quick and I know how to sneak up on people. Doesn't hurt to be good-looking either. I can do it, it's all just one big, blown-out-of-proportion pickpocketing trip._

I promised my mother that I'd try to come home, but that wasn't enough. With this thought in mind, I silently promise the same thing to both Connor and myself. But there's one more person left.

I also promise my father.

_I'll put everything you taught me to good use, Dad. I swear._

**Savannah Moral POV**

I sit in the tribute room with a thousand questions running through my mind. How are these Games going to work? Who will I ally with? Will I even live long enough to _have _allies?

Nonsense. Of course I will. I need to win this.

I don't get very far with my thoughts before my friends walk in, Bianca and Cida two blubbering messes of tears. I can't help but let out a small sigh at the sight of them. Penha's face looks cold and stony, like a volcano just seconds from erupting. She is the first to approach me, placing her hands firmly on my shoulders.

"Listen to me, Sav. You can win this. I know you can. You're a tough bitch, and I know you won't be afraid to mess some tributes up real bad. I know you. I know you'd rather hear the truth then a lie and if I didn't think you could win, you know damn right I would tell you. Just don't give up the fight, alright?"

I just stare at her, unable to believe the sheer _depth _of the words that just escaped Penha's mouth. Her eyes become misty for a split second before she blinks sharply and turns away in an attempt to hide her emotion.

Before I can even utter a syllable of comfort, Cida has thrown herself onto me, wrapping her arms around my neck in her usual dramatic way. She says things I can't make out amongst her loud, harsh sobs. I can feel her body shaking and shuddering with emotion and I find myself unable to speak around the huge lump that has accumulated in my throat. I pat her on the back awkwardly as she continues to drench my top with her tears and soon I find myself shedding several tears of my own.

Eventually, Joc manages to pry Cida off of me, and she automatically buries her face into his shoulder. Looks like they're done arguing for the day.

Bianca simply pulls me into a tight hug, clearly not trusting herself to speak. She's only just stopped crying herself. She gives me a little extra squeeze before releasing me with a sad smile and a whispered "good luck"

Rosario then steps forward. Oh no. I already know what this will be about.

'Listen. The bloodbath. Run from it. Grab whatever is in your path. It's not worth it. Find an alliance and lead them through the Games. I know you've got amazing leadership skills, better than mine even. Just…don't make any rash decisions alright. And keep using your alliance skills."

"I will. I'll do everything you just told me. Thanks, Ross."

With that, we hug. Joc also hugs me with his own, silly Joc-type words of encouragement. Before I know it, we're all in a massive group hug and we don't let go until the sound of peacekeeper footsteps breaks us apart.

The last things I notice as my friends leave the room are Cida's and Joc's hands, intertwined in such a way that suggests the beginning of something bigger than friendship. I can't help but crack a smile. I can't wait to tease them about this if I get home.

No. Not if. _When. _I will come home. And when I do, it won't be in a wooden casket.

I will not give the Headmaster that satisfaction.

**A/N Well, that's all, friends! Hope you all liked it and remember, reviews are love! J**


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